


Insurrection: Plastic Soul

by dont_lookat_me



Series: Insurrection [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Anorexia, Drugs, Eating Disorders, F/M, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Multi, Suicide, Suicide Notes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:42:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 15
Words: 38,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26492098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dont_lookat_me/pseuds/dont_lookat_me
Summary: A short high school AU of my novel, Insurrection.Bea Belmonte is a high school senior, desperately hoping to escape the disaster of her school life, one way or another.TW// Drug use, suicide (including talk of suicide), depiction of eating disorders,  self-harm implied, alcoholism implied
Series: Insurrection [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1926040
Comments: 22
Kudos: 2





	1. 1

Looking in the mirror in the morning was Bea's least favourite part of the day. She often pretended to ignore them, avoid them like the plague, but if she was honest with herself - she was obsessed with the mirror. Constantly fixated on whether the untamed curls of her hair sat acceptably, always making sure her eyebrows weren't smudged or out of place, her eyelashes not clumping together, or her mascara causing fallout on her cheeks. She checked nearly forty times a day to make sure her clothes still fit the same way, if she hadn't mysteriously gotten fatter between that moment and the last time she'd checked.

She pursed her lips at herself in the mirror before twisting on her cherished mean-girl smile and exiting the school washroom. The girl ran a hand through her long, winding curls and began her return to the class she'd ditched fifteen minutes ago for her after lunch checkup. She was twirling her water bottle by its cap handle as she walked, keeping her chin up as she strutted down the hallway. 

The girl passed a few of her peers, whose names she didn't know, as she wandered down the hallways. Part of her always wondered what they thought of her, but part of her didn't want to know. Several years ago she'd earned herself the nickname Plastic, the same pet name people used for their credit cards, and it had stuck like glue. The nickname didn't bother her anymore, or, if nothing else she told herself it didn't. But, she thought, her peers most certainly thought plastic when they saw her. 

In some ways, she supposed, it might have even been fitting. 

Finally, she found herself back in her desk in her trigonometry class. The content bored her and she'd been gone long enough that she wasn't even sure what was going on at that point. She reached for her purse at her side, pulling out her pack of gum and sticking a piece between her teeth. A tap came on her shoulder, and the girl groaned silently, rolling her big green eyes before turning over her shoulder to see who it was. 

Of course, she should have known. Bea closed her eyes for a moment to suppress rolling them yet again before tilting her head at the boy who'd tapped her shoulder. Haris Haddad, the only person in their 2,000 person school with a worse reputation than herself. "What, Haris?" Bea asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You might wanna give me that gum instead of chewing it. Heard gum's got calories." he snickered, raising his eyebrows at her. The girl straightened her neck and raised her chin, looking slightly down her nose at the boy before her trademarked mean girl smile returned.

"I'm sure you should be far more afraid of calories than I ever will be. I'm astounded they let you out on the basketball court anymore, given how fat you're getting." she sneered, turning back into her desk, getting the sensation of eyes on her. She turned her attention to the teacher's desk to find her glaring Bea down. The Spanish girl sighed and got out of her desk, knowing Mrs. Haddad hadn't taken well to the girl chewing into her son.

"Bea, do we need to have a chat?" the teacher asked, raising her brows at Bea over her glasses. Bea frowned, knowing that Haddad had had it out for her for years. Of course she did. Bea had humiliated her son in front of nearly 2,000 kids when they were in grade 9, and he'd never lived it down. 

The girl had no regrets, of course. The son of a bitch had it coming. 

The entire school had congregated for the junior boys' volleyball team's semi-final game. Bea sat in the bleachers, sucking on a lollipop and scrolling through her instagram instead of watching the game. She didn't know why anyone bothered attending these things, because the games were only interesting if you were allowed to play them. But, she was there by force, and there she stayed. 

Eventually, a text came in from her boyfriend. He'd said he was on his way to pick her up so they could 'blow that popsicle stand' as he'd put it. With a smile on her face, Bea locked her phone and looked up at the game. She had no idea what was going on or who was winning because she really hadn't been paying attention to the game at all. Quickly, she realized they were at half time, as the boys were just visiting among each other casually.

She got up from her seated position, ready to walk out of the gymnasium when the sound of a boy clearing his throat caught her attention. She looked over her shoulder, one eyebrow cocked up in the direction she'd heard the sound. "Where you going so soon, Belmonte?" Haris had shouted from where he stood in front of the bleachers. Much of the student body turned their attention to the girl standing by the doors. 

"What's it to you?" she shook her head, eyes narrowed. 

"I'm just a little surprised you're not sticking around to turn in your ticket to bone town." he snickered. This was just how Haris was, he'd relentlessly tormented her for years. Like he had some kind of sick obsession with making her life a living hell.

"Actually," Bea clicked her tongue, plastering on a smile so fake it could've been made of plastic. "I'm going to fuck your brother." she shrugged at him, still smiling. Haris' jaw dropped in shock. His brother was the football team's quarterback and poor, sweet Haris had been in his shadow all his life, in spite of his desperate attempts to make his presence something worth even acknowledging.

The student body errupted in oohs and oh shits, some even starting to laugh as Bea took her leave from the gymnasium. 

"No, Mrs. Haddad, we don't need to chat. I was just having a little visit with Haris." the lie slipped off the girl's tongue like it was nothing. Of course it did. Her whole life was a lie. "Was that all you needed?" her voice came out as sickly sweet. Mrs. Haddad rolled her eyes and shooed the girl away back to her desk. 

She took a seat again and began staring at her trig textbook. This couldn't be that hard, she thought, furrowing her brow at it and setting to work. 

After what felt like hours, the bell finally rung and Bea set off to her next class. She sat down in chemistry, pulling out her notebook to doodle instead of listening. It was no secret that Bea liked to draw, she was the top of her art classes all throughout high school. Of course, her maths and sciences teachers loathed that she didn't even pretend to pay attention, but the truth was she couldn't be bothered. Her hands sketched out roses and chrysanthemums, tulips and lilies. She'd always very much enjoyed pretty things. 

But, as with everything she touched, the pretty flowers dissolved into ugly things. Things she considered ugly, anyway. Pill bottles and scales, nooses and notebooks. Her absentminded doodling had her withdrawn from the class as a whole to the degree that she hadn't even noticed the bell go and someone standing over her shoulder. Immediately upon sensing someone's presence, she slammed the notebook closed and looked over her shoulder with an angry glare. The person backed off immediately, but he held worry in his eyes. Her ex best friend, Dasan Sundance frowned at her, his dark brown eyes filled to the brim with concern. 

"Oh, Day." she tried to smile as she tucked her notebook into her bag. "It's been a while. You look good." the boy frowned at her and placed a hand on her shoulder, not speaking. She and Dasan hadn't ended on the best terms, she'd admit, and it was her fault.

He was a selective mute, an outcast, just like Bea. The two had become fast friends, spending every minute together, communicating through little notes they slipped each other between classes. But one day his notes stopped coming and he withdrew a lot. She'd tried to get to the source of it, even went to his house to find his mum to ask what was going on with him. His mother, Nuna, let her into the house immediately, seeming surprised by Bea's concern, stating that Dasan had been fine. She'd run upstairs to go check on him, hoping maybe the two of them could play one of those stupid video games he liked or work on his project car. She'd found him hanging by his neck from the ceiling fan, and tore him down immediately. Called the police and he'd spent a month in psychiatric care. 

He'd never forgiven her for saving his life that day, and she knew that. She didn't regret her decision to save him, but she did regret letting him push her away. 

Dasan gestured to her backpack where her notebook was, frown still set deeply in his face. "It's nothing, I promise. I just got a little carried away with contrasting the imagery on the page." she laughed, hoping like hell it sounded real. The truth was, she knew why those things had gotten drawn, but she didn't want to talk about it. "Here, walk with me. Maybe we can get coffee or something, catch up a bit?" 

Dasan bit his lower lip and ran his hand through his hair. He pulled his mouth to the side and looked down at the floor. Bea knew him well enough to know that meant he had to be getting home. "That's fine, for sure. Do you want a ride?" he shook his head, smiling a bit at her. "Oh! You got your car back. That's awesome." 

Dasan flashed her a grin filled with braces and nodded, seeming quite pleased with himself. She was proud of him, the poor guy's anxiety was so severe he didn't get to school most days, so to know he'd managed to make enough progress that the ever-protective Nuna would let him drive again was a huge relief. 

"It was great to see you, Day. Take care of yourself." Bea forced on another smile before she retreated from the classroom, down the stairs and out of the building toward her car. Leaned against the bumper of her car was her only real friend, Trial. Trial's full lips were pursed in something of a snicker at Bea when she saw the girl crossing the parking lot.

"It's about damned time." she laughed for a second before her eyes settled on Bea's face, which must've read as quite upset because the other girl frowned. "What's goin' on? You look... almost kind of distraught. That's new, usually you just look bitchy." the joke brought a twitch of a smile to Bea's face.

"It's nothing. I just bumped into Dasan." she shrugged, unlocking the car and getting into the driver's seat, tossing her purse and binder into the back. She put on her seat belt, and Trial got in and put on hers, balancing her binder on her lap. 

"Colour me surprised. I haven't seen him in months." Trial's expression was most definitely surprised. Bea nodded in response, turning over the ignition of the car and starting her drive to take Trial home. 

"It hasn't been months since he's been to school, but I get what you mean. It's been at least a week since I saw him. Months since he acknowledged me though." the Spanish girl said with a shrug as she pulled into the Tim Horton's drive thru. "You want anything?"

"Yeah, just a medium ice capp." Trial smiled, fishing out a toonie and a quarter, placing it in the change cup tucked into one of the cupholders. Most of the change in the nearly overflowing cup had come from Trial giving her change for coffee, since they made the same trip nearly every day after school. 

"Welcome to Tim Horton's what can I get for you?" a man's voice echoed out of the speaker at the order-station. 

"Yeah, hi, can I get a large dark roast black and a medium iced capp?" Bea asked, making sure her tone came out politely instead of its usual sarcastic droll. 

"That'll be a large dark roast black and a medium iced capp?" the girl confirmed the order. He told her the total and she drove up to the window, her card poised to tap the machine. She tapped her card and he passed her the drinks, iced capp first, then coffee. Bea quietly thanked the drive thru worker and drove away.

"I don't know how you drink that shit." Trial shook her head taking a sip of her sugary monstrosity. "But as for Day, I think you've gotta let him go, Bee. I don't know why he's so angry but he's clearly not getting over it."

"I..." Bea breathed a heavy sigh. "I know." she ran a hand through her hair, shaking her head. As they approached Trial's house, she pulled the car to a stop about a block down. 

"Not this again." Trial rolled her eyes. "Bee, it's fine. I'm fine."

"I-"

"You give me this speech every day. It's fine I promise. Nothing's going to happen." Trial lifted up her binder and unclipped her seatbelt.

"What if one day something does happen?" she looked up at her friend with a serious expression. Trial just shook her head and smiled. 

"Then, I dunno. I guess we'll find out. Stop freaking out about it." the girl planted a kiss on her cheek and hopped out of the car, wandering down the street toward her house. It was old and derelict, looked like somewhere no one could live, much less want to. But Trial insisted she stay there with her sister. To look after her, being that she was caught in a horribly abusive relationship. That, of course, was what worried Bea. Crest hadn't laid a hand on Trial, not yet, but she wouldn't put it past him to try.

Once Trial made it into the house, Bea drove off to her own home. Her mother sat at the table, staring off into the distance as she often did when she was drunk. She closed the door softly behind her, but caught her mother's attention anyway. 

"Oh, Bee. You're home." her mother remarked, her voice devoid of emotion. Bea had heard of angry drunks, of crying drunks, of excitable drunks, but never of empty drunks. Never of the kind of drunken person who seemed to have no emotions whatsoever. But that was what her mother was, and Bea almost preferred it when she was drunk. At least then the screaming stopped. 

"Hi mum." Bea waved as she set her binder down in the hallway. She thought about asking her mother how her day was, but when the thought crossed her mind she shook it away. She didn't particularly care how her day was, and her mother didn't care how her day was. So, she opted to leave the conversation at that and retreat up the stairs to her bedroom. 

Once she was in the refuge of her bedroom, she was back at the mirror. The girl inspected her features carefully to make sure that nothing had changed. The coffee had served to make her bloated, her hair was displaced due to the wind. She shed her blazer and polo shirt, and pulled off her uniform skirt to inspect her thighs, the sight of them instilling a feeling of defeat in her chest. She wrapped her hands around the thickest part of her thigh, upset when her thumbs didn't quite come together at the top. The girl didn't know if she was more scar tissue or fat. 

She sat herself on the floor in front of her full body mirror, curled up in a ball and staring at her reflection with distaste. A whimper escaped her lips as the reality of her self-hatred caught up with her. She crawled over to her bed as the tears started to run down her cheeks. 

Under her bed was a small box, which she pulled out. In it was mostly snacks she'd taken from the kitchen to hide here so that the food would disappear from the kitchen, making it look like she ate. Hidden beneath the plentiful supply of Fiber One bars and other miscellaneous snack foods she'd once really enjoyed, was a razor blade. She picked it up between her beautifully done acrylic's and twirled it around her thin fingers, looking at it like she'd never seen it before.

She hated that she'd become this girl, but she'd been her for so long that she didn't know who else to be. At the end of the day, there was no one, not even Haris Haddad, she hated more than the girl in the mirror.


	2. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd just like to start this with a shout out to my best friend, Remelton, who is an absolute icon, an incredibly talented writer and is about 97% of the reason I'm uploading this at all. She's absolutely phenomenal.

The sound of the front door clicking shut drew Bea's attention. Given the time it was completely unreasonable for either of her parents to be coming _or_ going. Furrowing her brow, she threw on a sweatshirt, tucked her phone into the pouch, and tossed on a pair of leggings and jogged down the stairs to the kitchen.

When she reached the bottom she gripped the railing and swung herself around the corner to look for her mum. In the split second before her foot slipped and she fell off the last step to the floor at the bottom, she saw no sign of the other woman. The girl's spill to the floor ended in a loud _thud_ and an audible _ow._

She laid there for a second, the wind knocked out of her. _That was_ _definitely_ _going to bruise, and badly._ After a moment, she groaned and sat herself up. As she sat up she was hit with a wave of nausea indicative of a blood sugar plummet.

"Fuck," she groaned, holding her head up in her hands and breathing out a heavy sigh. When the first wave of nausea passed she crawled to her feet and stumbled into the kitchen. She hadn't even felt dizzy for most of the day so she'd had no way of anticipating she'd get stuck in a drop this bad. It hadn't even been that long since she'd eaten last. Only about two days, fifty-two hours, if she was being specific.

Irritated, she leaned herself on the kitchen counter, her legs threatening to give out under her. "What to eat? What to eat?" she whispered under her breath. She thought about it for a minute, but began to worry she'd fall again, and sat herself down on the kitchen floor. Scooting her way across the floor, the girl began to look through the cabinets, staring at the foods they contained. Nothing caught her interest, however, which only served to frustrate her more.

Finally, she crawled over to the fridge, sitting on the floor in front of it and peering inside. The sight of her father's leftovers made her stomach churn, cheese made her throat feel tight. Her eyes fell on a Boost shake, and she grabbed it from the door. She didn't like the damned things, but it would be better than nothing.

Weakly, she shook the bottle and peeled off the plastic around the lid. She tore off the little seal and took a sip, curling up her nose when she caught a sniff of it. Slowly, she sipped the shake until it was empty and set it down beside her. The girl leaned back against the cabinets behind her and closed her eyes, washed in exhaustion. The residue of the shake left a terrible after taste in her mouth, which she did her best to ignore. A few minutes later, she tried to get up, hearing her phone chime from the pouch of her sweatshirt. She furrowed her brow and leaned herself back up against the cabinets, pulling out her phone and checking to see who'd texted her.

It was from an unsaved number, but one that looked familiar. The girl rose an eyebrow at her phone screen, unlocking it so that she could read the whole message.

Unknown: hey bee long time since we chatted! i got your new number from ardin ages ago at a party. no idea why she had it but whatever that girl signs so fast i cant even tell what shes saying half the time. still kinda grateful she taught me asl though

Bea scowled at her phone, rolling her eyes. The message was ridiculous, but whoever the person was they were clearly comfortable with her. Her guesses landed on one of three people, Valentina Alemna, Niko Kuznetsov, or Qelle Santos, none of whom she was fond of.

Bea: Sorry, don't have this number saved, who is this?

She replied, surprised when the person started texting right away.

Unknown: sorry its thea lol probably shouldve started with that

What the hell was Althea Blackwing doing texting _her_ of all people? Bea locked her phone for a brief moment and got up, rinsing out her Boost bottle and leaving it on the counter so that her mother would know she'd consumed something for the night.

For an emotionally devoid alcoholic, the woman was extremely diligent when it came to her daughter's dietary habits. Bea often felt bad about just dirtying dishes to leave strewn about the house so that her mother thought she ate - and she most certainly did, as far as she was concerned, she ate a lot. But she couldn't bring herself to let her mother worry more than she already did.

Slowly retreating back up the stairs, Bea took her phone out again and looked back down at her text messages. She added Althea's number to her contacts to avoid any future confusion, and set her mind to figuring out what to say. The other girl was about the most loose-lipped person she'd ever met, she was arrogant and temperamental, and Bea was about ninety percent sure she had a god-complex.

When she got to her room, she flopped down onto her bed, spooning one of her pillows.

Bea: Oh, cool. Long time no talk. How've you been?

When they were little kids the pair had been close friends, and she was sure Thea thought they still were. It wasn't that she'd done anything wrong _per se_ , it was just that as Bea got older she had withdrawn more and more. Her confidence in Althea was all but lost when she learnt the other girl couldn't keep a secret, and as Bea's life started to crumble around her around the age of twelve, that meant that Bea just couldn't keep Thea.

Althea: ive been great sweetie cant complain. i miss you so much i wanna catch up what you doing right now

The girl looked around her room, pulling her mouth to the side. She wasn't interested in seeing anyone right now, especially not Althea. But, she knew Thea well enough to know that the girl knew damn well she wasn't doing a thing. Groaning to herself, she replied to Althea's text grudgingly.

Bea: Honestly nothing, lmao. I'm just at home, mum took off to hell knows where so I'm just by myself. Probably should do some chemistry homework but I can't be fucked atm.

Althea: oh great! ill swing by with coffees and we can shoot the shit for a bit see you in a flash

Fortunately for Bea, _a flash_ meant nearly an hour. She confirmed with the other girl that that would be fine and got up off the bed and sauntered into the washroom in the hallway to take her smeared makeup off and make herself presentable. Smudging off her makeup was easy. Looking at the girl underneath it was not, so she quickly set to applying a fresh layer of BB cream, a bit of eyeliner, her eyebrows, mascara, and a neutral lipstick. It paled in comparison to the full-face she wore to school, but she'd known Thea long enough to know the other girl was so self-absorbed she likely wouldn't notice.

With her makeup applied, the girl retreated back to her room to put on a better shirt than her Homer Simpson sweatshirt that served to do little more for the girl than make her look like a drug dealer. She landed on a bright yellow crop top with long sleeves and little thumb holes. The girl may have felt like the fattest creature to ever desecrate the earth, but she'd never let on. Her wardrobe was intended to exude a confidence she didn't think she was capable of feeling.

After tugging it over her head, she twisted her unruly curls into a bun atop her head and combed back all the baby hairs with an old mascara wand so that they would hold in place well. Not a moment after the last bobby pin was in place did she hear a knock at the door. She plastered on her award-winning smile and carefully retreated down the stairs, phone in hand.

She opened the front door to find a small, yet somehow still taller than herself, blonde girl on the other side of it holding one of Bea's former favourite drinks. The sentiment was touching, but Bea couldn't remember the last time she'd drank anything but a Boost shake with real sugar in it. Still, her smile didn't waver and she greeted the girl with a friendly "Hey!"

"Hey girl, oh my god it's so good to see you. You look fantastic!" she exclaimed, passing Bea her drink. A caramel frapp.

"Thanks, you look great too, Thea. Come in, I was just going to pop out for a cig at the back." Bea gestured for the girl to come in and led them through the small house to the back door. She fished through the pockets of her jacket at the back door for her pack of cigarettes, taking out the whole pack and her lighter. She slipped on a pair of flats and brought Althea onto the back patio.

The pair sat in the two deck chairs, looking out at the small back yard in front of them. It was a cute little yard with a small fire pit and some pretty trees, a small flower bed up against the garage. Once upon a time, Bea and Althea had spent their days chasing each other around this back yard with water guns in the summers, building snowmen in the winters.

"Could... I bug you for one?" Althea asked nervously, her bright green eyes looking up at Bea for reassurance. The Spanish girl nodded and smiled politely, fishing a cigarette out of the pack to pass to the other girl.

"I thought you quit." Bea mentioned as she placed the cancer stick between her lips and lit it. She passed the lighter to Althea, who lit hers as well, setting it down on the small glass table on top of the pack.

"I did. I just... got a lot on my mind." she laughed, running a hand through her honey blonde hair. "But we don't have to touch on that. Just need a little nicotine to get my head on straight."

"You sure?" Bea rose a brow in the blonde's direction. "Because if I know a damn thing about Althea Blackwing, it's that she _never_ mentions something unless she wants to talk about it."

"I'm here because I want to talk _to_ you, not _at_ you." she laughed a little through her nose, taking a sip of her drink. "Tell me how you've been! What's new? How are you holding up?"

Bea furrowed her brow. _How was she holding up?_

"What have you heard?" Bea gave Althea a side-eyed glance, taking a long drag of her cigarette.

"Nothing really, you know me. Thea never shuts up, no one gets a word in edge-wise when I'm in the vicinity." she laughed a little. "I just mean, like, I know you were pretty close with... Dave? I haven't seen you guys together and I heard something had happened to him that he was gone for so long, and I haven't seen you guys together ever since, so I figured something must've happened. I mean, you're not exactly the type of person who's good at keeping in touch - you didn't even tell me you changed your phone number, why was that by the way? Anyway, point is, you're pretty loyal even though you're a shitty texter, Bee, so I figured something must've happened there and I just want to make sure you're doing okay with it. I'm always here for you, you know. Just because we don't talk much anymore doesn't mean I'm not full of the same love for you I've always had."

Bea had to strain herself to listen through all of Althea's talking. She'd forgotten just _how much_ that girl could talk. "Yeah, T, everything's fine. We just kinda fell out of touch. Nothing exciting really happened. The new number thing is a really long story, I'm sorry I forgot to tell you."

Althea looked over her shoulder to Bea, a frown set deep in her perfect dark brown skin. "No, no that's the speech you give me when things most certainly are not fine at all. I know you like to think you play the mysterious bad girl card well, Bee, but I can read you like a book. There's something up, I can feel it. Was he your boyfriend? Had to have been, you don't even spend that much time with Trial and you literally drive that girl to and from school every day. I'm sorry, I'm blithering it's just... I just, I feel like you don't trust me. What happened, Bee? We used to be so close, but I can feel you shutting me out." the girl's frown turned to an expression of sadness as she inhaled on her cigarette.

"He wasn't my boyfriend. Just a really close friend, maybe it could've gone somewhere, I don't know." Bea shrugged, taking a drag as she spoke. "It didn't, and now we don't really talk. It's really no big deal, nothing worth worrying about. I'm hard as nails, I'll be fine. You know that." in an attempt to prove to Althea just how fine she really was, she took a sip of her drink. The sweetness was overbearing, but she pretended not to notice and swallowed it casually.

"I know you are, I just worry. I hate seeing you by yourself all the time. You know you're welcome to hang out with Gerranus, Aleka and me whenever you want, right?"

"Don't kid yourself." Bea laughed. "Those guys have it out for me, just like damned near everyone else." she scoffed, taking a final drag off her cigarette and tossing it over the fence and into her neighbour's yard.

"They don't know enough about you to hate you." Althea rolled her eyes. Bea just shrugged and took another for-show sip of her frapp, swallowing the self-loathing bubbling up in her chest alongside the cold drink in her throat. "And how's your mum doing? How about your dad?"

"Mum's fine, dad's at work pretty much every hour he's conscious. The usual."

"Is she still drinking a lot?" the question was meant to be genuine, Bea knew that, but she was beginning to feel interrogated. It had been entirely too long since anyone had bothered to take an interest in her, and now that it was happening she just wasn't keen on it.

"I - Thea, look, I really appreciate that you care but can we just talk about you? Everything is fine, status quo. You've really got nothing to worry about, would I lie to you?" the answer to that question was yes, a thousand times yes. She didn't even remember the last time she'd _actually_ been entirely truthful about anything, but she wasn't about to admit that.

"I wonder sometimes, but fine, I'll lay off." Althea gave her a grudging smile, and a wave of relief washed over Bea. The blonde girl focused her eyes on the sky and breathed out a heavy sigh, one that sounded like she'd been holding it in for hours.

"Is there something on your mind?" Bea looked over at the other girl, watching her closely. "Is everything okay at home?" her guess was that maybe her mother's business was going under or her sister was sick.

"Yes, yeah, home's as much a dream as it's always been, I guess." she whispered the _I guess_ so low that Bea nearly missed it.

"No, no I guess isn't good. What is it?" Bea frowned. She felt a bit of worry for Althea, worry and fear she'd sworn off _actually_ feeling for people. She'd resolved a long time ago not to get invested in people, but there she was, blowing it. Again.

"I..." the other girl trailed off, pulling her mouth to the side. "It's less about home and more about me, I guess. I just, I don't really belong there, you know? Mum and Mahalia are so good at being girls and being effeminate. They laugh at all the right things, they get pretty gel nails and curl their hair in the morning. May's fourteen and she can draw on her winged eyeliner so fucking well it's like she's been doing it her whole life. And I'm just, I dunno."

Bea frowned a bit, confused. "I'm not sure what you mean, Thea. You literally do all those things, what are you talking about?"

"My heart's not in it, Bee. Never has been." she closed her eyes, squeezing them really tightly shut. "And since I was May's age I've just been telling myself _oh, yeah you're just super gay other girls are so much prettier than you hahaha! That's it, that's the reason. I just love, love, love girls. Yep, that's it!_ " a tear streaked down Althea's face and Bea could see she was shaking a little bit.

"You... never told me you're gay." Bea remarked, a little bit surprised. She wasn't bothered by the idea, it was Thea, it had always been Thea and being gay wasn't exactly going to change that any time soon. "Is that what this is about? Are you... are you concerned about that?"

"No!" a sob wracked Althea's tiny frame and she curled in on herself in her deck chair, hiding her face between her knees. Her shoulders and back shook violently as she cried, prompting Bea to get out of her seat and sit down on the deck chair beside her, placing a hand on her back. "No, I'm not gay. Or, I.. I'm not into girls."

"It's okay, Thea. Breathe, breathe. What's going on?"

Another sob shook Althea's body and she broke out of the ball she'd curled into, thrusting herself at Bea, wrapping herself around the other girl, hugging her so tightly that it hurt a bit. Bea tried to ignore the pain and stroked Althea's hair in an attempt to console her. The pair was silent for a while, Bea just holding the blonde gently and patting her pack.

Eventually, the sobbing came to an end, and instead the body-wracking sobs dissolved into quiet, hiccup-y cries. Althea pulled away from Bea, wiping at her eyes and sliding the tears off her cheeks, sniffling once. "I'm so sorry, Bee. I'm so sorry for that, I..."

"You've got nothing to be sorry for." Bea tried to offer Althea a smile, taking one of the other girl's hands in both of hers, squeezing it gently.

"No, I- I do." she ran a hand through her hair and took a deep breath. Her green eyes were full of fear, but her face hardened with determination. "I'm... I'm not into girls. The way I think about girls isn't the gay kind, it's different. I'm... I'm jealous of them. I'm jealous because these girls get to feel comfortable in their bodies and they get to have an identity that makes sense to them. And, you know, maybe their makeup is so good because they're ashamed of what they really look like, or maybe they do it for fun, or maybe it's some combination of both. But I, I just don't feel that way. I... I wear the school uniform because I have to, I put on makeup every morning because I've been told all my life that _that's what girls do, and I'm a girl so I have to._ I get manicures that I fucking hate because that's what I'm supposed to do. I curl my hair every morning even though it looks fucking stupid because _I'm supposed to._ Because in my house, _girls are girls and they don't get away with anything but perfection._ If I'm not properly presentable I might as well be dog shit. I - I..."

Finally it clicked in Bea's head what she thought Althea was trying to tell her. "You're... not a girl, are you, Thea?" she tried to place her words carefully, but she didn't know how else to ask. Althea didn't meet her eyes, she was watching her lap, eyes half lidded and lashes filled with tears. Slowly, she shook her head.

"No, I'm not." she whispered. "But I can't tell anyone - _you_ can't tell anyone. I can't risk my father finding out he... who knows what he'll do. This has to stay between us, Bee. Please."

"Of course, T. My lips are sealed." Bea smiled at her gently, placing a gentle hand on Althea's shoulder. She wanted so badly to offer help but she didn't know how. She knew she couldn't force _him,_ she reminded herself firmly, to come out, but the idea of referring to someone as a person they just simply were not felt wrong to her. "I won't say anything to anyone. But I think you should. Maybe not your dad, but, you know, Gerranus and Aleka."

"I just don't think they'd understand. Gerranus is a great guy but he's almost as bad at keeping a secret as I am. And Al, Al's sweet but she's not someone you can trust as far as you can throw her. It would make its way to Valentina and Niko in no time and then I'm fucked." he pulled his hand away from Bea's, placing it in his lap beside the other one, drumming his thumbs on his calf. "And by fucked I mean it'll find its way to Aochen and then I lose my shot."

"I'm sorry, T, I honestly know nothing about what you're going through. I want to help, but there's no way for me to grasp a situation like this. I can only imagine how exhausting it must be to keep a secret like this, how heavy it must be every day to walk around being someone you're not, but... I can't imagine that being with Aochen is worth hating who you are the whole time you're together." Bea pulled out another cigarette, offering one to Althea, who refused. She lit her smoke and took a long drag off of it, pinching the bridge of her nose.

Sure, she knew all about pretending to be someone she wasn't. Knew all about keeping secrets. But this, she felt, was something far different. Something she would never truly understand, no matter how badly she wanted to for the sake of her... her friend.

But, she did understand his hang ups about Aochen. He'd been pining after the guy for years, and for good reason. Aochen had a heart of gold, he was one of the sweetest, most genuine people Bea had ever met. He hung out with a shitty group of people, sucked to be around in class, but one-on-one, Bea couldn't think of a better guy.

"And if he's really worth it, T, he'll understand. He'll admire your bravery, just like everyone should. It is so _fucking_ hard to be who you are, even as an unremarkable teenage girl like me. And it's honestly one of the most honouring feelings to know that you trusted me enough, even after how shitty I've been, to come to me with this. I hope someday I can be half as brave as you are, T."

Althea laughed, he shook his head and finally looked up at her, peering through his choppy bangs with a bit of a smirk. "I'm not brave, I'm shitting bricks over here. But thank you, thank you for listening and... for answering your phone today. I'm sorry for taking up your whole afternoon with my blithering. I just really needed a friend, and I'm genuinely thankful that friend was you." he got up from his seat, rubbing the back of his neck like he did when he was feeling self-conscious. "But, I gotta get home. I must look like shit, gotta beat my dad there so he doesn't totally freak."

Bea thought about trying to convince him to stay, but knew she didn't have much say because that boy was the most stubborn son of a bitch she knew. "Drive safe, text me when you get home so I know you're okay." she put another smile on her face, and Althea nodded, waving goodbye and retreating back into the house to head out the front door. He left Bea on the back patio to finish her cigarette, staring blankly out at the back yard.

The sun was setting, which took the girl by surprise. Had they been together for _that_ long? Where was her mother? She pulled out her phone to check it for messages, but as usual, there was nothing.


	3. 3

The next day Bea dressed herself for school, braided her hair and put her face on more meticulously than usual. She almost had the sense that she _needed_ to look good. Like something was off and maybe if she looked as close to presentable as she could manage, maybe she could turn whatever was brewing in her favour with a bit of fake-confident magic.

She slung her purse over her shoulder and picked up her binder from the doorway, not bothering to bid her mother a good day because she hadn't come home last night. The girl would admit she was a little worried, but no call from the police was usually a good sign that she had at least not wound up in the drunk tank. Satisfied for now with that, she left the house and climbed into her car to get Trial.

As she did every morning, Bea pulled to a stop about four houses down from the derelict disaster Trial called home and texted her to let her know she'd arrived. A couple of minutes later, the girl's head popped out of the front door and she started down the street toward Bea's car. She swung the door open and took a seat, fastening her seatbelt and wiggling so she sat comfortably without saying a word. Without so much as looking at Bea, who frowned at her leaning forward to try and get a look at her friend's face.

"Morning," Bea tried once she realized that Trial wasn't going to look at her. She put the car in drive and started them off to school.

"Morning." Trial grumbled. "Don't even ask, I don't wanna talk about it and I sure as shit don't want one of your speeches." The girl rested her chin on one of her fists, staring out the window. Bea was a bit taken aback by her friend's tone, but chose to stay quiet. If she didn't want to talk, Bea wasn't going to make her talk.

They drove the rest of the way to their high school in silence, Trial immediately popping out of the passenger's seat and taking off toward the building without so much as a _thank you,_ or _goodbye._ Bea just rolled her eyes and shook her head, pulling her binder out of the back seat and trudging off to the smoker's pit.

The 'pit' as they called it was really nothing but a crossway of sidewalks that led off school property. At one edge there was a garbage can with an ashtray top, which was seldom used. The ground surrounding the pit was picked for butts every day, but the grass was always filled with them. Bea was the only person there, which suited her fine. She fished out a cigarette and lit it, leaning against the back of the cemented-down garbage can. It was mornings like this that she didn't mind so much. Just her, by herself, enjoying a peaceful cigarette and the fresh air. Her eyes fell closed after a minute or so, her face threatening to curl into a bit of a smile as she felt the morning sun stream down onto her face. However, she was abruptly drawn out of this enjoyment when she was knocked over onto the sidewalk. She dropped her cigarette when she fell, and the way she landed, the palm of her dominant hand found the still-burning cherry on the ground.

"Ouch! Fuck!" she screamed, immediately pulling her hand away from the half-finished cigarette to look at it before turning an angry glare at whoever had knocked her over. The cherry had given her hand a pretty good burn, but she ripped her eyes away and stood herself up to give whoever it was a piece of her mind. When she finally looked up to see who it was, obviously it was Haris. She shot him a glare she almost hoped would kill him, staring daggers into his soul. "What the fuck was that for?"

The boy and his friends had started to laugh, causing Bea to scowl more. She followed their gazes to see Haris holding a takeout coffee cup with no lid, and a massive wet spot on her blazer. She stunk of coffee creamer.

"Oh, for Christ's sake, Haris! Really? Watch where you're going." She grumbled, looking down at the stain. "You'd think some part of you wouldn't be entirely fucking useless but I'm grasping at straws here, given that clearly not even your goddamned eyes work."

"Aw, Plastic, you cut me deep." Haris laughed, sneering at her. He gave the girl a once-over and shook his head. "Oh, and maybe learn to start wearing tights or something. I'd hate for word to get around that Belmonte's got a rabid cat." He winked at her, clapping a hand on her shoulder and walking away with his friends.

She squeezed her hands into fists and huffed out a breath filled with more fury than any scream she could have mustered, slamming them down onto the tree beside the trash can. _I'd hate for word to get around that Belmonte's got a rabid cat._ He knew, he _knew_ what he'd said, and this was his response. And she knew that the word _would_ get around. Haris wouldn't spare her the blow of keeping those scars a secret.

The girl wanted revenge, no - vengeance. Vengeance. And she would have it, no matter the cost.

But first she'd have to figure out how deal with what could very well be revived fame. A resuscitation of her former infamy she'd never really lived down, but wasn't at the top of anyone's priority list anymore. She bit down on her lip, chewing on it subconsciously before realizing she'd started slipping back into that nasty habit. Quickly she contorted her face back to its usual bitchy expression, picked up her binder and made her way inside as if nothing had happened at all.

The first place she went was the washroom just off the foyer. She rinsed out the burn on her hand as best as she could bear to, dried it off gently and trudged into the main office to ask for a band-aid. The nurse looked at her skeptically but handed her the bandage anyway. Retreating from the office, Bea heard a little giggle that drew her attention. It turned out to not belong to anyone she knew, but she had caught sight of Haris leaving the student services office. A lump formed in her throat, but she choked it down and looked away, wading through groups of people to get to her first class.

She sat herself down at her table in the art classroom, resting her arms on the table for a second before the cold-wet fabric reminded her that she was literally _covered_ in Haris' double double. The girl groaned and shook her head. _What the hell was she going to do now?_ She wondered. She was allowed to take the blazer off in school, as the kids weren't required to wear them during the warmer months, given that they wore their polo shirts and ties. Taking the blazer off, however, wasn't an option for Bea. Not unless she wanted two people spreading the news about her _rabid cat_ as Haris had so eloquently put it.

Grudgingly, she got up from her seat and pulled out her phone to check the time. There were still ten minutes until classes started, so she trekked back to the office, leaving her binder on the table to mark her place. When she poked her head back into the office, the secretary gave her a look of confusion.

"Do you guys keep spare blazers? Someone spilt their coffee on mine." She explained with a shrug.

"Oh, no we don't. You don't have to wear the blazer, you know. It's May." The woman behind the desk smiled like she really thought she was being helpful. "We only keep spare polos." She added as an afterthought.

"Thanks anyway." Bea gave the woman a fake smile and retreated from the office, heading back to her classroom, frustrated. She had decided she would just endure the day smelling like coffee, a bit put out by the inconvenience, but not feeling she really had any other option. When she re-entered the classroom, she felt her heart sink.

Of course.

Seated at her table, laughing with her pretty-girl friends, was Valentina Alemna. Bea snuck over, hoping to snatch her binder up and move to another table, but Valentina put her hand out on Bea's binder and frowned at her. "No, no, you're sitting with us today, Bee." The girl said, gesturing for Bea to take the seat beside her with one sharply manicured finger.

Relentless cursing took place in Bea's head as she grudgingly sat down. She really couldn't stand Valentina, she was pretty and bitchy and in a lot of cases just downright cruel. But the girl had a face like an angel. Her blonde hair was almost snow white, and blue eyes so crisp and icy they were nearly as white as her hair. She had elegant high cheekbones and a naturally defined jaw, a tiny button nose that was speckled with the most dainty freckles Bea had ever laid eyes on. Her lips were such that any plastic surgeon would cry out of envy that they couldn't create something so perfect. Valentina was _perfect_ and Bea hated her for it.

"Good morning," Bea offered, her trademarked smile splashed across her face.

"Morning Bee." Valentina's sad excuse for a best friend, Beckett waved. They made for an odd pair, her and Valentina. Beckett was quick witted and manipulative, she had the personality that Bea imagined a goblin might have. Everything had a price, with Beckett, and if you knew that price she was easily bought. She was exceptionally bright, always at the top of the honour roll, which astounded Bea the way that that girl partied. Valentina on the other hand, was just plain mean. She easily rivaled Beckett insofar as intelligence, and her people skills were _far_ better than Beckett's when it came to charm and tact, but when it came to likeability, neither of them were likely to see a passing grade on the horizon.

Bea knew well enough to know that the girls hated each other just as much as most of the school hated them each individually, but they stuck together like glue. A good tactical move, really, because when they were together, no one dared cross either of them. Or any of their bobble-headed-minions as Bea called their friends.

"You're always trying to sneak off on us. We don't bite." Valentina laughed insincerely, prompting Bea to mirror the laughter. "You should know by now we could desperately use your help. These projects are killing me."

"Yeah, of course." Bea nodded. "Sorry, I ran into Haris this morning and the insufferable prick gave me a coffee shower." She rolled her eyes to express her distaste. Beckett just kind of scoffed under her breath and picked up her pencil, Valentina laughed softly. Before either of them spoke the bell rung to signal the start of their class.

The duration of the period was unremarkable, as was most of the rest of the day. At sixth period, Bea's chemistry class, she was called down to student services over the announcements. Groaning to herself, she packed her binder up, slung her purse over her shoulder and retreated from the classroom to the student services office. She walked down the empty hallways to the office, trying to figure out what they could've possibly wanted from her.

When she stepped into the office, the atmosphere was tense. Ignoring the discomfort that it set in her stomach, she approached the desk and told the receptionist who she was. The man behind it nodded and told her one of the guidance counselors wanted to see her. She forced herself not to scowl at the man and simply nodded, taking a seat in the waiting area so that she could wait to be called. Several minutes later, a short, fat woman wandered out of one of the offices and called her name. Reluctantly, Bea got out of her seat and moved herself into the woman's office.

"Good afternoon, Bea. How are you doing today?" the woman smiled politely at her.

"I'm fine thanks, how are you?" she asked, solely to be polite. She couldn't care less how the woman was doing, she just wanted to know why she was there.

"Good, good." Her smile stayed plastered on her face. "Take a seat, I promise not to take up too much of your time." Suppressing a sigh, Bea took a seat across the desk from the guidance counselor, whose name plate read Meagan Hart.

"I'm sorry, not to be rude, Mrs. Hart, but why am I here exactly?" the girl leaned forward a bit in her seat to give the woman a quizzical look.

"One of your fellow students came to us this morning, they were concerned that you might be hurting yourself." The counselor spoke calmly, her voice sweet like honey. Bea closed her eyes to keep herself from rolling them. _Fucking Haris._

"Oh," she forced out a little laugh. "I can't imagine why anyone would think that. It's kind of absurd if I'm being honest."

The guidance counselor's facial expression hardened a bit. "Bea, I realize that you must feel like your ego is at stake here, but this is a safe place for you to express yourself freely. If there is something going on, or you're struggling with your mental health we're here to help you."

"No, no Mrs. Hart, I promise everything is perfectly fine. Really, I think the other student must've mistaken me for someone else. I take a reliable antidepressant and have a stable home life, there's no cause for concern." She smiled sweetly at the guidance counselor. _She was going to fucking kill that son of a bitch._

"Are you sure there's nothing you'd like to talk about? I've talked to several of your teachers and they've made mention of you being withdrawn from classes, not engaging with your peers. Ms. Greene mentioned you spend a lot of time drawing in her chemistry class. Do you want to talk about that?"

"Not particularly, there's nothing to talk about. I'm a little bit worried about a friend of mine, which is probably why I seem kind of out of it, but it's nothing. Honestly, I've never been better." The girl was struggling to hide her frustration with the woman, but if she was going to lie her way out of this one she wasn't allowed to get defensive.

"What's going on with your friend that you're worried about them?" Hart pressed, the tone of her face indicating concern that Bea felt was unwarranted.

"It's really not mine to disclose, Mrs. Hart. But I promise that everything is perfectly fine, and frankly I'm hurt that someone came in here making accusations about me." She was placing her words carefully, but with a remarkable expertise. The girl had spent the last five years lying about damned near everything, and by that point she was so good at it she felt she deserved some kind of trophy.

"I'm sure they weren't trying to be accusatory, Bea. They came here out of a place of concern, I think it's very sweet that they're trying to help. But we can't help you unless you let us."

Bea swallowed hard, trying to choke down her bubbling frustration alongside it. "Yes, it's very flattering that someone's concerned for their friend's safety, but the concern is misplaced being put on me. I do genuinely hope that you're able to find and help whoever it is that needs it, but I'm not the girl they seemed to think I was. My mum and I are quite close, I can guarantee that if something was the matter she would handle it."

The guidance counselor seemed to accept that answer and eased back a bit in her chair. "That's good to hear. I'm glad that you've got a good relationship with your family, that always makes life much easier. But, I'm afraid I do have to contact your parents to let them know that there is a suspicion that you might be harming yourself. I'm also required to put you in touch with a doctor for a psychiatric assessment."

_Shit._

"Alright, if that's the policy, I understand. Thank you for your concern, Mrs. Hart." Bea's fake smile was so plastic it felt like her face might crack. "Was that all you needed?" the guidance counselor nodded and Bea rose from her seat, shrugging her purse back over her shoulder and retreating to the door.

"Take care of yourself Bea, keep your chin up." The woman behind the desk gave her a calm smile, which Bea attempted to reciprocate before slinking out of the office.

The moment she stepped into the hallway she pulled out her phone to text Trial.

Bea: Hey, come out to the car, we're going.

She'd barely hit send when a voice drew her attention. The girl froze in her tracks, closing her eyes and breathing out a frustrated sigh. "Bee! Hey," the voice came from right behind her, and when the girl's eyes fell open they landed on Valentina.

"Hi, Tina." Bea said, turning away from her again so that she could head for the exit. The blonde girl followed her.

"So, I was just in the gym and Haris is talking about you - that's nothing new but I think he might be-"

"Why are you talking to me?" Bea didn't look at the other girl, she kept her eyes focused on her phone, waiting for a text back from Trial. The girl pushed open the main doors to the building and started for the smoker's pit.

"I can talk to whoever I want." Valentina scoffed at her, continuing to follow her right out to the pit. "Obviously."

"Well if that's the case, why don't you find someone else? It's not art class, and if I remember correctly it was you who said to me _we don't associate with each other outside of art._ " Bea rolled her eyes, fishing out a cigarette and popping it between her lips.

"Why have you got to be such a bitch all the time? No fucking wonder no one likes you."

"That's rich coming from you, Tina. You've never had a real friend a day in your life. I'm sure you wouldn't know one from a hole in the wall." The girl lit her cigarette and inhaled the smoke until her throat burned.

"I don't even know why I bother." Valentina shook her head. "I try to do you a favour, and this is how you talk to me. Everyone's right about you, you are just plastic."

"Just fuck off, okay? If you hate me so much, go cry to Beckett or your oh-so-perfect boyfriend about it." She took another drag, waiting silently for Valentina to leave. To her surprise, she didn't.

"Have you ever considered that maybe, just _maybe_ people wouldn't treat you like shit if you weren't such a shitty person to be around? Like, I don't know, maybe you could stop being two-faced and fakey to everyone. Or would that kill you? The little plastic mask would fall right off and, what, you'd bleed out on the sidewalk?"

"Look, just leave me alone, okay? Whatever you wanted to tell me about Haris really isn't my problem and I just don't fucking care."

Rage flashed in Valentina's face, rage like Bea had never seen sully her oh-so perfect face. "If I remember correctly, that's _exactly_ what you told Dasan Sundance the night before he tried to kill himself, isn't it? That you _just don't fucking care._ That he _shouldn't bother contacting you anymore_ because you'd _had enough of his whiny, self-pitying bullshit_?"

Shock hit Bea like a bus and it must've shown because Valentina sneered and continued to tear into her. "Isn't that what you signed to Ardin the night before you let her leave your house party with a drunk driver? She died that night, not that you seemed to have noticed. Is that what you said to Trial this morning when she got in your car with a black eye and a missing tooth?" the other girl's tongue was saturated in venom, her words stung and cut like knives.

"You don't know anything about me or the things I've done, Valentina." Bea tried to fight back but she was afraid. Afraid because this girl had her verbally backed into a corner. Afraid because _she was right_ about her. "Don't you fucking act like you know anything."

"Oh, but honey I do. I know everything. I've got eyes and ears everywhere and people talk. People talk, and they talk, and they talk, and their favourite adjective to describe a shitty person is _Plastic._ " The blue eyed girl had gotten alarmingly close to Bea as she hissed at her, her lips grazing Bea's ear as she whispered the word plastic.

Tears were threatening to form in Bea's eyes but she blinked them away. "Get the fuck away from me." She shoved the girl in the chest, but she was stronger than she looked. She didn't budge. "You don't scare me, Valentina. I see right through you."

"Oh but you should, and you don't. There's nothing to see through." The blonde gave her a kiss on the cheek before whispering in her ear again. "Don't ever expect me to extend an olive branch to you again. One word out of place, Belmonte, and you're ruined."

Without another word she straightened her back and put on a venomous smile, brushing past Bea to head back toward the building. Bea closed her eyes and took a shaky drag off of her cigarette. She couldn't let Valentina know she was scared, but she couldn't afford to have a real enemy in her either. Grinding her teeth and plastering on an equally as evil smile she called after the blonde girl. "Valentina, wait."

The blonde girl stopped but didn't look over her shoulder.

"What were you going to say about Haris?" she tried to cover up the wavering in her voice, but it trembled horribly when she spoke.

"Too little too late, Plastic. Get a grip, you're being a baby." And she stalked her way back into the school.

Bea sunk to her knees in the grass, clapping a hand over her mouth to stifle a scream. The tears welling in her eyes were dangerously close to spilling over when she heard Trial's voice calling out to her. Blinking the tears out of her eyes, Bea got to her feet and cracked her neck. Her face settled into it's natural scowl and she tossed what was left of her cigarette in the dirt. When her eyes focused on Trial, she saw what Valentina had been talking about. Her friend had a horribly bruised black eye, its severity only indicated by how noticeable it still was beneath her makeup. It was heavy-duty makeup too, given how smoothly she was able to cover her deep, pitted acne scars beneath it.

"Don't say a word about it. Just take me home." Trial spoke in a sharp tone, Bea catching notice when her mouth opened that she did have a missing tooth. She felt a pain in her chest at the sight of her friend having been hurt, but the only thought she had was _I told you._

"Yeah, for sure. Let's get the fuck out of here." She nodded a couple of times and led the two of them to her car. 


	4. 4

The pair left the school in silence, speeding past both Tim Horton's and Trial's shack. She turned in her seat to glare at Bea, pointing out the window when they passed her home.

"Where the fuck are we going? You just passed my house." she grumbled. Bea kept her eyes on the road, tightening her grip on the steering wheel slightly.

"I'm not taking you back there," Bea replied.

"The hell you are, take me home."

Bea didn't respond until she pulled into her own driveway. She took the keys out of the ignition and shifted to look at Trial. "Look, you are _more_ than welcome to walk your ass home from here, but I will _not_ be the person to take you to that place. Not anymore."

Trial glared, looking out the passenger's side window and slumping her shoulders forward. Bea partly expected the other girl to continue to shout at her, but partly expected her to ease out of her mood.

"If you don't want to talk to me, don't talk to me. If you don't want to see me, you don't have to. There's a futon downstairs you can have. Do whatever it is you're going to do, but I'm not taking you home." Bea said, pulling the door of the car open and going to step out. Trial wrapped her hand around Bea's wrist and pulled her back into the car.

"I can't just leave her there, he'll kill her." her grip on Bea was so tight it hurt. "Please, Bea. If you want to do the right thing here, just take me home."

"If it were me in your position, would you let me go back?" Bea rose an eyebrow at her friend. Trial scowled and shook her head.

"That's not what we're talking about."

"Maybe not, but you understand my point. You understand why I'm telling you no." She pulled her arm away from her friend and rubbed her wrist gently. "I know you think you're helping, but if he kills Justice, who's to say he won't kill you too?"

"Why have you got to be so negative about everything? You've never so much as come inside, you have no idea how much better he's been since I moved in. So what, he hit me once in almost two years I really don't-"

"And you sincerely believe that it was a one-time thing? You think guys like Crest knock out the teeth of a sixteen-year-old girl once and have a change of heart?" Bea suppressed an irritated laugh.

"You think you're so smart, Bea. You think you've got everyone and everything all figured out. You decided that if you just shut yourself down and pretended to be the biggest, fakest bitch you could physically manage, that you'd just _protect_ everyone. You haven't protected anyone from _shit._ " Trial spat, looking at Bea from the corner of her eye.

"Where the hell did that come from?"

"I'm sick of the self-righteous _I'm right about everyone and I'm gonna save everyone from themselves because I'm just such a saint_ shit. You don't care about anyone but yourself and you haven't for a long time."

"Tell me how you really feel, then, while you're having this completely unwarranted and ridiculous outburst. I'm just trying to fucking help, Trial."

"If you want to help, take me home."

"I'm not taking you home so that some psycho can kill you and I can live with the guilt of knowing I could have stopped you."

"Fine, be like that. I'll see you in English or whatever." Trial shook her head and got out of the car, retreating down the driveway to the sidewalk, trudging off toward her home.

Bea stayed sitting in her car for a minute, the door still hanging open, staring at the garage door ahead of her. She ran her tongue across her teeth and sucked her cheeks in, sighing to herself. She slammed a fist on the dash of the car and rested her forehead on the steering wheel, frustrated. _What was she supposed to do?_ If she chased after Trial on foot, the girl would just run and Bea would have no chance of catching up because she was on the track team. If she went after her in the car, she'd have no way to get her _into_ the car, and she had a sinking feeling she wasn't going to get through to her. If she just gave up and went inside, she'd have to live with whatever the consequence of letting her go was.

After a few minutes she slammed the car door closed, turned over the ignition and went after her. She found Trial about halfway home and slowed down to drive beside her. "Trial!" Bea called out to her. The other girl just shook her head and kept walking, not even acknowledging her friend's presence. "Please for Christ's sake just come stay with me. Just for a few days."

"Why?" Trial turned on her, stopping in her tracks. "So you can bitch and moan to me about how shitty Haris is to you the entire time I'm there? So you can tell me all about how worried you are that Valentina's going to get as close to ruining your life as she possibly can? Kick rocks, Bea. I don't want to hear it, I'm not your fucking therapist."

"I never asked you to be." she tried to speak calmly, tried to stuff her emotions down and told herself if any of her feelings were going to come out it had fucking better be rage because there was no way she was going to cry about this.

"You're right, you demanded it. Get out of my hair before I actually lose my shit."

"Why are you acting like this, what's your problem?"

Trial laughed and shook her head, starting to walk again. "I thought I told you to kick rocks. Go home, Plastic. I never fucking liked you." she shoved her middle finger out at Bea, who sat frozen in her seat on the side of the road in shock.

_Plastic... I never fucking liked you._

The words made Bea's stomach hurt. She looked down at her hands on the steering wheel and breathed out a sigh. "I really hoped you were different." she whispered, turning her car around the nearest corner and heading back home.

When she stumbled inside, she felt like she'd been stabbed in the gut. Trial's words had really gotten to her, gotten to her more than anyone had for as long as she could remember. She'd really made the mistake of thinking that Trial Alazar, star of the track team, would want to be friends with some stupid bitch like her.

The girl sunk to her knees in the doorway as a sob wrenched itself out of her chest. She slapped a hand over her mouth to stifle it just a second too late, as the tears started to roll down her cheeks like river rapids. Her sobs wracked her body so hard that they hurt, her chest heaved as she hyperventilated.

"Bea?" she heard her mother call from the kitchen. The sound of a chair scraping across the floor followed shortly after and then footsteps. The woman popped around the corner, her brow furrowed. When her eyes landed on her daughter, crumpled up on the floor a bawling mess, she rushed over to wrap her arms around her. "Bianca, sweetheart what's the matter?" Bea shook her head, her hand still clapped over her mouth, her head leaned into her mother's chest.

They sat on the floor for a while, her mother holding Bea tight to her chest and rubbing her back gently. "Babygirl, you need to tell me what's happened so I can help." Isla spoke calmly. Bea could tell to listen to her mother's voice that she'd been drinking. Not enough to warrant the title of drunk, but she'd been drinking.

The girl pulled away from her mother and wiped her tears away, shaking her head. "I... I don't want to talk about it, mum. I'm sorry." she tried to smile in an attempt to reassure her, but her mother wasn't having it.

"Bonkers, come on. This is important to me, I'm worried about you. You're so thin I can feel your spine through your blazer, and the school just phoned me half an hour ago to tell me they have reason to think you're hurting yourself." Isla had a look of deep-seated sadness on her face, almost as if even her _soul_ was sad.

Grudgingly, Bea took a deep breath and let her smile fade. "The call from the school is nothing. Haris is going around causing problems again, I'll deal with it. I haven't lost any weight recently, and you know how hard it is for me to gain any because of the malabsorption." she didn't really have malabsorption, it was a lie she'd come up with after plenty of research so that she could explain why her periods had stopped. She hadn't even so much as gone to the _'doctor's appointment'_ she'd booked, or gotten the _'bloodwork'_ she'd been sent for. The lies sat badly in Bea's chest, but they were so much prettier than the truth.

"I just can't help but worry. I see so little of you now, ever since Ardin died. Even less since you and Dasan stopped talking. I'm afraid that I'm losing you."

"Don't be silly, mum. I'm right here where I've always been. I just had a bad day today, there's absolutely nothing to stress yourself about." the young girl gave her mother a tight hug and scooted back on the floor. "I'm going to go to my room and change, I've been stuck in this coffee-stained blazer all day because Haris decided I needed a bath." she stood up and squeezed her mother's shoulder gently before retreating up the stairs to clean up her disheveled appearance.

She wiped her makeup off and took out her braids before retreating into her bedroom to change out of her uniform. Grateful to be out of the damned thing, she tossed it into her laundry basket and dressed herself in a pair of pyjama pants and a pullover hoodie. Once the girl was changed, she picked up her phone and flopped down onto her bed to check it for any missed notifications.

To her surprise, she had quite a few. Mostly messages on Facebook, which told Bea all she needed to know. _People were talking about her, and those who didn't know her well enough to have her number wanted details._ She groaned, clenching her jaw and rolling her eyes. If she was going to play Haris' game, she was going to have to answer them sooner or later.

And as for what she was going to do to get back at him? She had the perfect plan.

In the meantime, however, it was her turn on the chess board. Messages from eight different people, some of whom she'd never even heard of.

Kaelee Schmidt: Hey girl! I know we've never talked but I just wanted to let you know your never alone and if you need a friend you got one in me. Don't let people get you down! Chin up love!

Bea blinked a few times, confused by the message. The kid _had_ to have been at least somewhat new to their high school because no one, _no one_ would've considered saying such a thing to someone like her. Trying to pretend she wasn't astounded by the idea of someone trying to be _nice_ to her, she wrote a quick reply to the girl.

Bea Belmonte: Aw, thanks hon. I'm doing my best, take care of yourself:)

She hoped that was an adequate response when she hit send. On to the next one.

Allessia Casso: Yo, is what everyone's saying true? Kinda fucked if it's not and someone just made it up.

Bea Belmonte: I think someone mistook someone else for me, lol. Makes it stressful for me, but I'm glad I'm taking the heat instead of someone who might not be able to cope.

Most of the rest were just kids looking for either Bea's side of the story, looking to tease her about the circumstances, or trying to get out any further details they could probe out of her. One, however, caught her attention.

Beckett Bieri: We need to talk

Bea Belmonte: What? About Haris?

Beckett Bieri: No about the Pope

Beckett Bieri: About Valentina, why the fuck would I want to talk about Haris *or* the Pope?

The girl suppressed a laugh at Beckett's message. She wasn't allowed to laugh. She wasn't allowed to think Beckett was funny.

Bea Belmonte: What about Valentina?

There was a massive lump forming in her throat. She knew she'd fucked up bad, but to have fucked up badly enough that Beckett was getting involved was virtually unheard of. This was bad. This was _very, very_ bad.

Becket Bieri: I just wanted to let you know that you don't have anything to worry about. You're not really in any kind of danger

Bea Belmonte: I wasn't worried, but thanks.

Beckett Bieri: Lie to yourself all you want. Tryna help but I guess you don't want it

Grudgingly, Bea decided to hear Beckett out.

Bea Belmonte: Okay, fine, maybe I'm a little worried. Thank you for the heads up and all, but I'm not exactly sure what you mean be "you're not really in any kind of danger."

Beckett Bieri: It's a Tina thing. Not my tea to spill, so I won't, but she has her tantrums and says a bunch of shit; everyone thinks she's the meanest bitch to walk the earth and it works for her. Doesn't mean a word of what she says, but saves her a lot of trouble. Sure you know all about that

The girl scowled at her phone, only feeling more confused now. She understood leading people to believe that you're a certain way to keep them away from you, but Valentina's case was a little extreme to be something as minor as that.

Beckett Bieri: Don't believe me? Google IED

Beckett Bieri: This conversation never happened

"Okay then..." Bea muttered, rolling her eyes. She had never understood popular girls and their nonsense, especially when it came to being cryptic and insincere about who they talked to.

She'd admit, however, that she appreciated Beckett getting ahold of her. Never would say it out loud, but would admit it to herself. The mention of this _IED_ caught Bea's attention. Curiosity got the better of her and she opted to Google it from her phone.

_Intermittent Explosive Disorder._

The girl read through a few of the search results, almost feeling like she'd invaded Alemna's privacy. The symptoms did, however, make sense for Valentina's personality and adequately explained her earlier outburst.

 _Why would Beckett tell her this?_ She could fuck up Valentina's life beyond repair with information like this, and Becket Bieri - who had no reason to trust her - had told her about it. But, her trust in Bea wasn't misplaced. She may not have been a remarkably nice girl, but she was by no means an evil or conniving girl.

She sighed quietly, locking her phone and laying it on her chest. She laid in her bed with a pillow hugged to her chest for what seemed like hours, thinking. Never in her life had she felt as damned alone as she did then. Three months ago she would have called Dasan, five months ago she would have texted Ardin. A mere day ago she would have walked over to Trial's and asked her to go for a walk.

But now she had no one.

After quite some time, Bea found herself falling asleep. She nearly was when a hand shook her shoulder, the grip too strong to have belonged to her mother. The girl suppressed her urge to make a face and rolled over, sitting up to look her father in the face.

It had been days, maybe even over a week since she'd last seen him. He woke up at the crack of dawn, came back late in the night. He owned a car dealership in the city, which was meant to explain why he was seldom home. His daughter, however, was old enough to know better. The dealership was a front for a major cocaine operation, but Bea often pretended to be oblivious to that.

"Hey," Bea offered her father a smile. He was a big man, tall and broad shouldered. Raven haired, always sporting a five o'clock shadow. The only features they shared were their ivy green eyes and prize-winning smile.

"How you doing, sweetheart?" he asked, his voice calm and tender. The kind of voice she could imagine her mother falling head-over-heels for, just like she had.

"I'm fine, daddy. How are you?" she smiled. She'd always been a daddy's girl, but she had a hard time covering up her resentment for his lifestyle.

"I'm good, your mother said you had a bad day." her father watched her eyes intently, like he was waiting for her to slip up in her calm demeanor.

"It's fine, honestly. Boys at school are trying to start shit and my friends suck. Typical teenage girl shit, it's nothing to worry about." she shrugged as if to tell him that it really was no big deal. Silently, she hoped he wouldn't ask for who the _boys at school_ were. Haris' father was caught up with hers, and Haris was caught up with his. She might have hated Haris with a fiery passion, but she really wasn't willing to find out what would happen to him if her father caught wind of him.

"You don't take any shit from those boys, babygirl. You're a Belmonte, and Belmonte's don't take shit from anyone." her father put a hand back on her shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"You got it, and I got a plan." a wicked grin sparked across Bea's lips. "We'll see who thinks they're tough when I'm done with them." her father, Antonio, laughed gently.

"You know the rules." he warned her with a matching grin.

"No cops."

"No cops." he repeated, sliding his hand off her shoulder and giving her an encouraging wink. Without another word he got up and left the room, closing the door gently behind him. Watching him go left a bit of a hurt in her chest, but she decided to ignore it and roll over to go to sleep.


	5. 5

The next morning, Bea rolled out of bed and immediately got into a shower. As the water ran over her body, she hummed quietly to herself, focused intensely on the song so that she wouldn't be stuck in some kind of water-induced introspection.

When she got out, the girl wrapped a towel around her hair and her body and snuck back into her bedroom down the hall. It was a Thursday morning, which meant she would soon be running late for school. However, that was the furthest thing from her mind. She'd realized in the night during her highly disrupted sleep that she was far more pressed for time that she realized, and that meant she'd have to set this plan in motion sooner than she would've liked to.

So, grudgingly, she picked up her phone off her charger.

Bea: I need help with trig. Where can I meet you?

The girl felt almost repulsed when she hit send, locking her phone and tossing it on the bed to get herself ready to leave the house. She didn't really need help, but it was a good in. Haris was some kind of mathematical savant, which was surprising given that in almost every other realm of life he was a fucking idiot. The kid had been to juvie twice since they'd known each other and tended to be doped out beyond belief every time he drew a breath, but he was book smart.

She retreated to the washroom to put her face on, just the bare minimum because she'd be _damned_ before she let Haris Haddad think she was trying to impress him. With her essentials on, she returned to her bedroom and threw on a belt-strapped, off-shoulder, long-sleeved crop top and a pair of olive cargo pants. She left her hair down around her shoulders, fluffing it gently to encourage the curls to tumble down her shoulders the way she liked. Ready to go out, she picked her phone back up to see she'd left him waiting for about forty-five minutes.

Insufferable Shithead: ooh look what the cat dragged in itty bitty plastic cant even hold a grudge right shes just coming crying for trig help how cute

Insufferable Shithead: whats in it for me

Bea: I'll give you 60 bucks a week if you tutor me through the final.

Insufferable Shithead: gonna have to do better than that belmonte youre a business girl you know better

She grit her teeth and rolled her eyes, clenching the fist of her free hand. With a grudging shake of her head, she sucked it up and replied.

Bea: 75 and I'll help you pass English.

Insufferable Shithead: aaaand

Bea: : ) I won't humiliate the everloving shit out of you at grad. Don't test me, if I'm so plastic I must not have a soul, and if I don't have a soul I sure as shit am not gonna feel bad absolutely *fucking ruining you*

Insufferable Shithead: wow your actual smile looks almost as real as the colon bracket its like you just copy and pasted that shit on your head

Insufferable Shithead: but what the fuck am i gonna care if you fuck my shit up at grad thought you were smarter than that move plastic

The girl sighed, licking her teeth in frustration. This was going to be harder than she thought.

Bea: You know what...? You're right. Why stop there when I could pull out the big guns? Surely you remember the day you stole my purse, so I broke into your locker and found all your little - what *were* they supposed to be? I'd call them poems but I'm pretty sure not even one of those horrible poetry pricks could write something that bad.

Bea: I still have them, you know. How devout you are to your feelings, Haris. It's precious.

Bea: Oh, and then there's the video I have of you wailing on Dasan and shouting at him to kill himself, the literal day he tried to kill himself.

Bea: Aaaand then there's the time I caught you fucking with Mrs. Harmon during the Christmas concert.

Insufferable Shithead: ...

Bea: Oh, sorry, I wasn't done. But, I guess you've had enough of a stroll down memory lane. You do me this favour and I keep my mouth shut. That's the deal, it's the deal we've always had.

He didn't respond for a while and Bea breathed out a heavy sigh. She knew he could retaliate easily if he wanted to. The amount of dirt Valentina had on her paled in comparison to the amount Haris had. But she figured him smart enough to know it wasn't worth it to try putting her on blast, since no one liked her enough to care all that much about how shitty she was. The same could be said for him, after all, Haris was the _most hated_ person she'd ever known. The difference was, it bothered him, and she knew it did.

Insufferable Shithead: one wrong word here plastic and your whole shit comes falling down

Insufferable Shithead: you wanna start a fuckin war ill start a goddamn war and you better watch your back

Insufferable Shithead: so you watch your fuckin mouth belmonte because two can play at this game

Bea: Difference between you and me, Haris? You still give a shit. It's a weak spot. Doesn't look good on you.

Insufferable Shithead: fine ill help you with your stupid homework

Insufferable Shithead: you say one thing out of turn and youre going down

Insufferable Shithead: and remember if i go down your daddy goes down with me

Bea blinked a few times in surprise, a bit taken aback by the threat. She'd always been tight-lipped about the real source of her family's wealth, she wondered how he knew about it, but she didn't dare question it. This was a dangerous game, but she wasn't one to back down from a challenge. Or, more specifically, she wasn't one to back down from the likes of Haris Haddad.

Bea: I'm not stupid enough to involve the cops. Don't care enough to let anyone know about you.

As far as she was concerned, the authorities would either catch up with him or they wouldn't. It made little difference to her. He could keep up his little gun-smuggling act as long as he wanted, it wasn't any of her business.

Insufferable Shithead: my house in twenty bring a double double

With that said and done, Bea got up from her seat on her bed, grabbed her binder and car keys and headed out. She got into her car, stopped at Tim Horton's to grab the two of them coffee, and made her way to his house. It was an average-size, unremarkable bungalow on the outskirts of the city. Swallowing her nerves, she grabbed the coffee tray and her binder and made her way to the front door. She didn't have to knock, the second she stepped onto the concrete front step, the door swung open.

Haris stood in front of her with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. He clearly hadn't taken the time to get dressed because all he wore was a pair of grey sweatpants. Without his long-sleeved blazer on, Bea realized he had a number of tattoos. She'd known about the scorpion on his left forearm simply because it extended onto his hand, but the others were news to her. In fact, without his uniform on, Haris looked like one of the last people one would expect to see at a school like theirs. His black hair was disheveled from being slept on, his blue eyes had deep bags under them.

"You coming in or what?" he rose a brow at her, leaning his head forward a bit, shooting her an expectant stare. She shook off her surprise and nodded, pushing past him and stepping inside. He closed the door hard behind her and took a step back. The house stunk like cigarettes and was messier than she'd have expected from someone with a trigonometry teacher for a mother. She pretended not to notice, however and kicked her boots off at the door. "Bedroom's down the hall. Fuck if I'm spreading this shit on the kitchen table to get lost in the grade nine AP math assignments."

The idea of winding up in Haris' bedroom left Bea with a sour taste in her mouth, but she played it off and nodded, gesturing for him to lead the way. Shrugging, Haris flicked his hand over his shoulder and led her down a short hallway, stopping about halfway down. Before retreating into the room to their left, he pointed at the end of the hall, telling her that that was where the washroom was. She nodded once and watched him duck into the room they were stood beside.

The room was a mess, dirty clothes sat in a pile beside his closet, whose doors hung wide open to reveal a bunch of shit stacked haphazardly inside. He had a twin-sized bed that was unmade, the single blanket on it was pretty much just smushed between the wall and the mattress. Across from the bed was a large desk with an astounding amount of nothing on it. On the floor beside it was a laptop, stacks of books, and a binder. Haris pulled out the desk chair and told Bea to take a seat, that he'd be right back. Uncomfortable, Bea nodded and sat herself in the plastic fold-out chair, setting down the coffees and her binder as Haris disappeared out of the room.

A few minutes later, he returned. His hair was brushed, and he was holding another fold-out chair, the cigarette that had been in his hand was now gone. "Alright, let's see this shit." the boy sat himself in the chair beside Bea and cracked his knuckles. "What've you got right now?"

"What do you mean?" she rose a brow, confused, as she unzipped her binder and opened it to her trigonometry divider.

"What's your grade? What're we going for here?"

"Sixty-five." she lied, feigning embarrassment. She had an eighty-six, but she was still going to need to hike it up. "I need a seventy-five." Silently, the girl hoped that the actual math added up to be beneficial for her. If she was going to get the grade she needed from this class, she'd have to get a ninety-eight on their upcoming final.

Haris was quiet for a moment, pulling out a calculator and punching some numbers with remarkable speed. After a minute, he laughed and shook his head. "That's a pipe dream, Plastic. You'd need a ninety-eight to pull that off."

"You saying you don't think you can do it?" she crossed her arms over her chest, silently cheering that the numbers she'd made up actually checked out. It wasn't like her to come unprepared to a situation like this, but she hadn't anticipated the question - a rookie move on her part.

"Just saying I don't think you're smart enough." he shrugged, flipping through her binder. "But if you're actually willing to shut the fuck up and listen you might surprise me."

Bea just ignored his comments and urged him to get on with explaining to her where she was going wrong. He was quick to point out her errors, at times even seeming like he was trying to be patient and helpful. Other times, he'd steal the pencil from her hand and push her away to do the questions for her since she was _mercilessly fucking them up._

When they got through the assignment, Bea was pleasantly surprised. He'd actually taught her quite a bit about the errors she'd been making. Giving her assignment a once-over, Bea placed it inside and zipped the binder closed.

"You good if I have a smoke in here?" she asked, pulling her back of cigarettes out of her pants pocket. Haris just shrugged and pointed to a gun-shaped ashtray sitting in his windowsill.

She nodded, sliding her chair over to the window so that she could sit and smoke at the same time. Silent, the girl lit her cigarette and took a drag before turning her attention back to Haris. "So, what's the English situation looking like? How dire?" she asked, raising a brow. Subconsciously, the girl was a bit worried she wouldn't be as good a teacher as Haris. But a Belmonte was nothing if not competitive, meaning she'd have to try.

Haris sucked his cheeks in and made a face of dismay and irritation before replying. He folded his arms across his chest and drummed his fingers on his ribs, refusing to make eye contact. "I got a fifty-six." he muttered under his breath. "Need at least a sixty-seven. Which means you gotta help me get above a ninety on this fuckin' final."

Bea nodded a couple of times to show she understood. "So, just so I can understand, what exactly is it that you're struggling with? You have Harmon, right? She's not so hard about grammar so I'm not sure I get the problem." she took a drag off her cigarette, watching Haris closely as he picked up his binder off the floor and rummaged through it before tossing her a book, which she caught with ease.

Hamlet.

"I already can't fuckin' read and they give me this shit." he groaned, leaning back in his chair again and running a hand through his hair.

_What did he mean, he can't read?_

"Can't read as in... like, what, exactly?"

Haris shrugged, pulling out his own cigarette and lighting it. "Dyslexic as fuck." he exhaled a thin cloud of smoke with a sigh. "I don't even bother reading that shit anymore because if it doesn't make sense to motherfuckers who can read it sure as shit won't make sense to me." he seemed to be doing his best to look unbothered, but Bea thought she detected a hint of frustration in his voice. "I don't even know why I gotta know that shit, I'm going into psych, Christ's sake."

 _Haris_ was going to be a psychologist? Bea suppressed a laugh. "Right, okay, sure I guess." she shrugged.

She sat there in the fold out chair, smoking with one hand and reading passages out of the book for Haris with the other. Patient as she could manage to be, she explained what the passages meant and what was going on. Occasionally, between taking his notes, Haris would utter questions or make editorials on the text. To Bea's surprise, however, he truly did seem to be paying attention. 

At the end of Act Three, Bea decided she'd had enough for one day and told Haris she was going to head home. She quickly gathered her things and left the house, passing Mrs. Haddad on her way out. The girl felt her cheeks heat up, wondering just what the trigonometry teacher must've assumed she'd been doing there. With her head down, Bea climbed into her car and drove off back to her own home. 


	6. 6

Bea had barely made it home when she noticed Althea...? _No, T's_ truck parked outside her house. He had a deep frown on his face, seated inside his vehicle while he rubbed his face and took long drags off of a cigarette. Confused, Bea parked her car in the driveway and popped out, approaching T's truck cautiously.

"Bee! Oh thank god." he sounded panicked. "Sorry for turning up out of the blue. You weren't at school today, I... it's a good thing but... but, uh, I wish you were. Get in." Bea could see now that he was shaking. Nervously, she wandered to the passenger's side door and climbed into the truck.

"What's going on, T, what happened?" she rose a brow at him, trying to maintain calm.

"So much... so much. It started off okay, like any day. Everything seemed normal. Sure, Valentina seemed off but Beckett was mostly able to keep her under wraps. I went to calc, right? Since I've got a first period spare and all I didn't bother going for first. Everyone in class seemed really glum but I didn't wanna ask. I try not to talk much in that class because I know once I get going my mouth just fucking goes, you know? And so I just kinda let it be, I didn't ask anyone what was up. Then I went to third, I have English with Haris and he wasn't there. That's nothing new, he hardly comes to English."

"Okay, that's all well and good but can you just tell me what's got you all freaked out?" Bea rose a brow. This all just sounded like a regular day to her. Valentina was always in a mood, Beckett was always handling her bullshit.

"Yeah, yeah I'm getting there. So, anyway I wasn't expecting Haris. Then, Mister Howard said he wasn't going to do a lesson today. He said, and I quote, 'we could take the day to do as we needed to take care of ourselves.' So I looked around and I noticed Niko, you know Niko? Niko Kuznetsov, right? She was crying on Qelle Santos's shoulder. I didn't understand why, of course, especially because I've known Niko for years and have _never_ seen her cry. Finally, I just texted Gerranus. I decided I needed to know what the fuck was going on. While I was waiting for him to reply I realized Trial wasn't in class either. Now _that_ struck me as odd. She always comes to school with you, and even when you're not there she is. She never skips."

He was right. It certainly was odd that Trial wasn't in school, and the thought of it coupled with T's shaken demeanor put a sick feeling in Bea's stomach.

"Finally, Gerranus gets back to me. He says, 'where should I start?' I asked him what he meant. He said he'd heard Trial was in jail, accused of killing her sister's boyfriend. That Emiri Ito was missing." he paused for a moment and swallowed hard. "And then there was the most blood-chilling scream I have ever heard. I got up, ran out of that classroom faster than I've run anywhere. I saw Aleka standing in the middle of the hallway, her hands were covering her eyes and she just sunk to her knees. When I asked her what happened, who was screaming, she just pointed toward the unisex washroom that's in the B-wing. Of course, I'm confused. Al isn't a screamer, she's not someone who's easily scared. So, I braced myself and knocked on the door to the washroom. It swung open because the lock was broken, which just made me feel sicker.

"I stepped inside and... ohgoditwasawful." the few last words came out of his mouth so quickly they sounded like one long word, rather than a phrase. 

"This isn't a horror movie, T. The suspense is _not_ doing it for me here, _what happened?_ " Bea hissed, frustrated. She was already incredibly upset at the idea that Trial was in jail, and sickened to think Emiri was missing. 

"It... it was your friend. Dasan, I mean. It was... he... he hung himself from the coat hook in the stall." T swallowed hard like he was going to cry and Bea was flung into shock.

"He's okay, right? He's okay? Please, for the love of fucking _god_ tell me he's okay, T. He's just- he's just back in the psych unit, right?" the words started to tumble out of Bea's mouth faster than she thought herself capable. 

_She should have been there. She should have known._ The girl clenched her hands into fists so tight that her knuckles ached and her palms felt like they were going to bleed but she didn't let up. _This was her fault, this was her fault.  
_

"Why aren't you answering? Jesus, T, this isn't fucking funny!" the realization of the meaning behind his silence struck Bea like a bus. She felt like she was going to be sick, and tears felt like they were going to spill over her cheeks at any moment. "I'm... I'm going to go inside." she croaked, opening the door of the truck and sliding out of the vehicle.

"Bea! Bea, please, come back! We- there's a group therapy tonight I was going to-"

"I'm not going. I need to be alone." Bea didn't turn back to look at him, she just clutched her keys tightly and wandered into the house, her mind on fire. She stepped foot on the mudroom floor, barely registering her mother's presence in the room. The girl rummaged through her coat on the hook inside the door way and fished out a fresh pack of cigarettes.

With the new pack in hand, the girl retreated out the back door to sit on the patio and smoke. By the time night fell, the pack was empty, her lungs burned, and she was still seated in the same place, eyes fixated on the ground in front of her. Her mother had come and left, and quite frankly, Bea hadn't heard a word of it. She'd stayed fixated, smoking until she choked, entirely numb. 

Once she realized it was dark the girl breathed a heavy sigh and rubbed her forehead. She looked down to her phone to see it had been booming with notifications for hours now. There were several missed calls - a strange occurrence, given that Bea never received phone calls - even one from Haris. One from _Beckett Bieri._ She didn't have the energy to answer them, however, so the girl simply got up and wandered into the house. 

Inside the door, Bea noticed her mother had left a note for her. 

_I don't know what's happened to you, Bee, but please come talk to me when you see this. I'm so, so worried, my dear. There's leftovers in the fridge, please have some. If your appetite is suffering, I bought some strawberry boost shakes - I hope those are the ones you like - but please have something. You know I hate your smoking, but I asked your father to bring home a new carton for you. They're on the kitchen table.  
_

_I love you, Bee  
Xoxo  
Mum_

A smile tried to twitch its way across Bea's lips but she didn't let it. The girl stalked over to the fridge to see what her mother had made for dinner, frustrated to realize it was Kraft Dinner and hot dogs. Even still, the pit in her stomach was empty and starving, enough so to convince her to choke back at least a bit of what her mother had cooked up. 

The small plate she put together took her nearly an hour to eat, what with all the time she'd taken to stare out at the wall, push the slightly-soggy noodles around and consider in great detail the true extent to which she loathed herself. Even still, she did manage to finish eating. Got up and left the plate beside the sink before turning back to the table to examine the carton of Canadian Classics on the table. They weren't her favourite, but more than anything she appreciated the gesture. 

Hesitantly, the girl wandered up the stairs toward her mother's bedroom. She gave the closed door a gentle knock before poking her head in. Her father didn't seem to be in the room, which drew her to the conclusion he must've been in his office in the basement. Seated upright in the bed with a book in hand, was her mother. 

Isla had her nose buried in the same shitty romance novel she'd been working on for months now. The room wreaked of alcohol, but Bea pretended not to notice. "Hi, mum." Bea's voice came out as barely above a whisper. Her mother looked up from her book, took a moment to finally realize who was in her doorway, and placed her bookmark into the pages. 

"Oh, Bonkers, come here baby." Isla's tone turned sad as she patted the bed beside her for Bea to join her. Hesitantly, Bea crossed the room and crawled onto the king-sized bed, curling up under her mother's outstretched arm. She didn't want to be in there, not with her mother, but she didn't want to be alone either. The idea of being alone with herself any longer was nearly as terrifying as the all-consuming thought of never seeing Dasan again.

The pair sat in silence for a while, Bea mulling over whether or not she really felt up to talking. The answer was obviously no, but she knew her silence would bother her mother. And, if she was honest with herself, she had so much she wanted to say. No words managed to find their way out of her throat before Isla spoke again. 

"I got a call from Nuna this afternoon. She was looking for you, of course." her mother paused, as if she was going to chuckle softly, knowing full-well that Nuna had no use for her. No sound escaped her lips, however. "I told her you likely weren't going to answer your phone, but she had asked if you would come to see her tomorrow after school. I think she must have something for you." 

The idea of Nuna wanting to speak to her made Bea feel sick. She couldn't imagine the woman could have any kind words left for her, not after everything she'd said to Dasan out of anger. Not after she let him down like that. Not after she let him push her away and alienate her entirely. 

"Please don't make me go to school tomorrow." Bea managed to croak out. It wasn't what she'd wanted to say, and upon reflection the girl thought that it was certainly possible that focusing on school would make her feel better, but she didn't retract her statement. "I... I don't think I can be there. Everyone's just going to tell me it's my fault." 

"How could it possibly be your fault?" Isla's tone sounded almost as if she was concerned. Bea knew that perhaps somewhere through her drunken stupor, the woman probably was concerned. She'd be worried sick by morning, but for now her sympathy was nothing more than a poorly assembled display to try and make Bea feel better. 

The girl didn't respond right away. Her mind flooded with thoughts, with responses to the question so quickly she couldn't find the words to explain why. 

_Because I told him to fuck off. Because I left him alone. Because I trusted him. Because I'm a fucking piece of shit who drags down everyone she interacts with. Because of all the bullshit I put him through. Because all I've done since I turned thirteen was lie and manipulate. Because I knew he had feelings for me. Because I broke his heart on purpose instead of letting someone love me. Because I make everything about me. Because even now I'm making the fact that he's fucking dead about me.  
_

_Because I told him I didn't care. Because I told him I didn't care. Because I told him I didn't care._

_Because I told him I didn't care._

_Because I told him I didn't care..._

"I don't know, that's just how they are." she said finally. Isla hummed under her breath, nodding a few times. "They're all like that. Assholes." 

She sat there, curled up with her mother for another hour or so, mostly in silence. Eventually, though, Isla was beginning to fall asleep and though it was not even on the horizon for Bea, she bid her mother goodnight and retreated from the bedroom. She wandered back down the stairs, grabbed a raincoat to keep warm and a new pack of cigarettes from the carton on the table. Quietly, the girl sneaked back onto the patio and sat herself in one of the deck chairs. 

She lit her cigarette and started some music on her phone. All of the notifications had mostly drained the battery, but she had enough juice to sit there and listen to music if nothing else. Time seemed to pass slower than usual, excruciatingly slowly, but Bea tried not to pay it any mind. She was whisked away by thoughts of sitting in this very back yard, in this very deck chair with Dasan to her left. The two of them exchanging text messages and signing bad - and excruciatingly inappropriate - jokes to one another. The memory of the first time she'd ever heard him laugh made Bea's heart ache as if it had be lit on fire. Remembering the silly faces he'd make when he ate in an attempt to convince her that the calorific monstrosity of the day was worth eating made her feel like her guts had been ripped out of her abdomen and splayed out in front of her. 

But even there, caught up in her thoughts, Bea knew she was making this about herself. And she didn't want to. She desperately didn't want to, but she didn't know how to avoid it. How to make it about him, like it was meant to be. And the more she grappled with it the harder it became to think about. It was _harder_ to think about how much he'd lost out on, how beautiful and kind and trusting he was. It was _harder_ to think about how deserving he'd been of a future. _It was so fucking hard to think that he had died for absolutely no reason, and that it was no one's choice but his.  
_

That last thought tore a sob from Bea's throat. She curled in on herself, choking on sobs that wracked her body. 

_No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't blame herself for this because it wasn't her choice._ It was his. _And that was so, so much worse._


	7. 7

When morning came, Bea found herself in her bed. She didn't remember how she got there, but her phone was plugged in and she'd fallen asleep on a notepad. The lamp on her bedside table was on. She must've put herself there. Neither of her parents could've carried her to bed, for one. And while it wasn't unlike her mother to forget the lamp on, she seriously doubted that the woman would've tucked a notepad under her cheek. 

The girl cracked her neck, which she noticed was incredibly stiff, and sat herself up slowly. The pen for the notepad was nowhere to be found, but she knew it must've been somewhere close by given that the notepad was covered in scrawly writing. Blinking the sleep from her eyes, the girl picked up the notepad and examined it. The writing was hers. It seemed to be some kind of note, and it appeared to be a long one as the words began in the middle of a sentence and trailed most of the way down the page. Furrowing her brow, she turned back to the page before it, noticed that yet again it seemed to pick up in the middle of a sentence, and turned back one more page. She frowned down at the words, almost feeling as though perhaps she shouldn't read them. 

Despite her better judgement, the girl pulled her knees up to her chest, wincing when her legs moved beneath the sheets and, what she could only assume was a scab, caught on a snag in the blanket. _Shit,_ she thought. _I swear to god if these sheets are ruined dad's going to kill me._ Bea breathed a sigh and peaked under the blankets. The white sheets, miraculously, were in perfect condition. 

Still, not willing to chance a problem arising, she withdrew her legs from beneath the blankets and threw on a pair of long pyjama pants in the event that her parents entered the room. Settling herself back on the bed, Bea checked her phone to see the time. It was six o'clock in the morning, still relatively early for her to be awake for school. And while she was exhausted, her dreams had been filled with nightmares and she had no desire to resume them. 

Instead, she turned her attention to the notepad. Her heart pounded in her chest and she swallowed the lump forming in her throat before beginning to read. 

_Day,_

_I... the truth is I don't know where to start. I don't know what to think, or say, or do. I don't know, and I know that I act like I know everything but... but I don't know. I know that right this very second I want to text you. To ask you what to do. To blither to you endlessly, to ask you how to move past this. Your advice was always the best. But I can't. Or, well, I guess I could. But I'd never hear back.  
_

_And I know I've never heard your voice but I'd do anything to hear you laugh just one more time, Day. I know that's sappy and gross and it sounds like bullshit but it's true. I feel like I'm dying. I've never hurt this much in my life and this is only day one. And I don't think it's going to get better, Day. I don't think it is. How could it?  
_

_You're gone. You're gone. You're fucking gone! You left me here alone. And I get it, I get it that's fucking selfish but I'm selfish. I'm selfish, Dasan. I said it. I'm sorry. I was awful to you and I see that now. I've always seen it, and you didn't deserve that. You didn't deserve that and I didn't deserve you. And to be honest I don't know what I'm talking about. I don't know what I'm talking about or why I think I'm talking to you. But... I have to get this out. I have to get it out or I'll lose my fucking mind._

_And I get it, this isn't about me. Count on Bea to make it all about herself. I know. I fucking know. I just don't understand. How could you do this to me? What ever happened to "Bea, you're wonderful. I don't ever want to hurt you"? What happened to "You're my best friend, don't think you're getting away so easily"? What happened to you?   
_

_Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you tell me you were hurting? You know I would have dropped everything in an instant to come help you. You knew that and I know damned well you did. So why didn't you? I know I fucked up. I know I hurt you, I know I told you a thousand times but what happened with Machk was a mistake and it was stupid and I shouldn't have done it. I shouldn't have done it because some part of me knew what it would do to you. But I came back. I came back and I thought I was going to save you. I thought I did save you.   
_

_But you didn't want to be saved. You didn't want to be saved, and it wouldn't have mattered how many times I saved you because you'd have just left anyway, wouldn't you? You promised me you loved me, Dasan. I'm sorry I couldn't love you back.  
_

_I'm sorry that I didn't laugh hard enough at your jokes, at the day you tried on one of my old bikinis just to make me laugh. I'm sorry I didn't try the different flavours of ice cream you bought me. I'm sorry I never tried an iced capp the way you liked them. Or that I didn't take enough photos with you. I'm sorry that I wasn't fun to be around because I was so busy hating myself that I didn't have it in my heart to love you - even platonically - the way you deserved to be loved. Because, above all the other things, I see now that that was the most selfish thing I could've ever done. I let you love me when I couldn't love you back.  
_

_And I know I can't take that back. I know I can't go back to the day I let you drag me to the lake at the end of grade 10 after you got your license and play volleyball with you. I know I can't go back to the trip to the bowling alley and make sure I had a snack so I didn't faint on the alley. I know I can't go back to the group presentation we did in grade 11 and tell your jokes the way you wanted them to be told. I know I can't go back and fix all the things I did wrong. I know, and I regret those shitty decisions every day.  
_

_All you ever wanted from me was a friend. A real friend. Someone who loved and cared about you unconditionally and I wasn't there to give you that. I was busy being selfish. Leave it to Bea to be selfish and unreasonable and shitty. Leave it to Bea to ruin even the rare good things that happen to her.  
_

_And you were the best thing that ever happened to me..._

The note ended there. Bea stared blankly at the page before throwing the notepad away from her and curling in on herself to hug her knees. She still had no idea how she was supposed to feel. What she was supposed to do. And the thought of what had happened between her and Machk, Dasan's older brother, made her sick to the stomach. The thought that if she saw him it could happen again made her want to bash her head into the wall. 

She wasn't in the mood for sex, she seldom was. But she'd give anything, _anything_ to feel something. Clenching her hand into a fist, Bea breathed out a heavy sigh, her hands trembling. She picked up her phone and peered at all of her notifications. There was one from Machk.

The sick feeling in her stomach grew, but she ignored it to inspect her other notifications. Several text messages, about twenty of which were from T himself. She didn't bother to read them, figuring she'd come back to them later. There were a few Facebook messages from Beckett, a couple from some other people she didn't know very well. Strangely, there was a message from Gerranus Stormpike. She had a text from Haris, three voicemails, and a general Facebook notification. Dasan had tagged her in a photo. 

Attempting to swallow her nausea, Bea opened the Facebook notification. It was the most recent photo of the two of them. He'd leaned himself on the top of Bea's head, grinning like an idiot despite the nasty black eye and bloodied lip he had. Bea stood slouched with a scowl on her face and her arms crossed over her chest. She must've been fifteen pounds lighter at the time. The photo put a slight smile on her face, it had been one of her favourites for quite some time. Not because it was a good photo of her, it was far from it, but because she so rarely had seen Dasan smile like that. But there he was in all his cheeky glory outside their high school, shit-eating grin plastered across his face because he'd managed to get both himself _and_ Haris suspended for a week for fist fighting in the smoker's pit. Dasan didn't smoke. Bea had texted him that morning - it wasn't even nine in the morning - asking him to come out to stand with her so that Haris would back off. Haris, typical of himself, had shot his mouth off just enough to get himself swung at by Dasan. The two fought for a solid fifteen minutes before the vice-principal sprinted out of the building and tore them apart. 

Bea, of course, hadn't bothered trying. She was nearly a foot shorter than Haris - who wasn't particularly big - and was quite amused that he was getting wailed on by a guy damned near twice his size. 

The photo was captioned simply; "I'll miss you." For such a simple caption, the words struck a nerve in Bea and once again tears threatened to spill from her eyes. She made sure to take a screenshot of the post before closing the app all together in an attempt to keep herself from crying. 

Running a hand through her hair, Bea opened her text from Machk. 

Machk: How you holding up, Bee?

She genuinely couldn't think of a more fucking _stupid_ question than that. He'd only sent the message about an hour ago, and knowing Machk that was a pretty reasonable sign that he was still awake. 

Bea: Not really holding up. You? 

A few seconds later, his response came through.

Machk: About as shitty as you could possibly imagine. Nightmares til hell won't have them. You down for a cig? I think I got vodka in the fridge.

Bea: Same address? 

The girl didn't want to make a snide remark about drinking at 6:30 in the morning because if she was honest, a drink didn't sound like such a bad idea. Maybe then she'd either bawl her eyes out and get it over with, or she'd numb the fuck out. While the latter was more desirable, she felt like perhaps crying was her better option. 

Machk: Yeah, different unit. I'm in 207 now.

Bea: Gotcha. On my way, then. Don't expect me to have fancy eyeshadow or anything, it's not even seven in the morning. 

Machk: I wouldn't dare, lol.

Rolling her eyes, Bea got up off the bed and dressed herself in a black long-sleeved t-shirt and a pair of jeans. She had no intentions of going to school today, and didn't even bother paying her uniform any mind. In fact, she didn't even pay the mirror any mind. The fact that she was going over there, after everything that had happened, despite what she knew was _going_ to happen, disgusted her enough that she didn't even want to look in the mirror. She snuck into the washroom to brush her teeth with her eyes closed, finger comb her hair, and tie it into a high ponytail atop her hair. 

The girl hurried down the stairs as quietly as she could, all seventy-five pounds of her coming to a silent halt at the bottom. She and her father made a split second of eye contact before he rose a brow at her. "You're up early. Where's your uniform?" 

"Oh, mum said I should maybe stay home from school today. I just got a text from Althea, she's one of the ones who found Day, she said she needs someone to come and stay with her for the day since she's really not coping." the lie slid off her tongue with expert ease. Using T's wrong pronouns was excruciating, but she'd promised she'd keep his secret and she was damned well going to. 

"Are you sure you're feeling up to that? I know you and Dasan were very close." Antonio's tone held a sadness that made Bea's nerves feel uneasy. 

"Yeah, honestly I think it's probably for the best. I really need a distraction." Bea plastered a half smile on her face, one that, among her many other fake smiles, could have won her all of the acting awards she'd ever heard of. Her father nodded at her, and with that, the girl snuck out the back door and climbed into her car. 

She dropped by Tim Horton's on her way to Machk's apartment, grabbing herself a green tea she most likely wasn't going to choke back and getting a double double for Machk. The rest of the drive to the apartment building was damned near silent, save for the sounds of the engine and the occasional sound of a car whizzing by. When she reached the apartment, she rung the buzzer and let herself into the building, hiking up the stairs - though they made her dizzy - and knocked on the door to his suite. 

The door swung open and Machk stood behind it, smelling faintly of pot and cigarettes and liquor. He looked awful, his eyes sunken into his head with bags beneath them that seemed to drag on the floor. The man took the coffee tray from Bea's hands and set it on the counter. His dark brown eyes stared down into hers, seeming to tremble when they made eye contact. 

_He wasn't coping._ The poor guy was a wreck, more so now than Bea had ever imagined him capable. Machk was absolutely the coping type. Strong willed and smart and brave. But none of those traits were reflected in him at that moment. 

His hands cupped her cheeks and he kissed her, not a word of hello escaping her mouth before he did so. There was more emotion behind that kiss than Bea thought words could convey. The necessity, the fear, the urgency with which he'd kissed her shocked her far more than the action itself. And finally, Bea was struck with the conscious realization, the _true_ realization - _his little brother had just hung himself. Of course he wasn't coping.  
_

Still, Bea pressed her hand into Machk's chest and gently pushed herself away from him. "Jesus, Machk..." she didn't know where she was going with the statement beyond _Jesus.  
_

"I- I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that." he rubbed his forehead and breathed out heavily. "Come on in." nodding a few times, Bea stepped inside and closed the door behind her. She scooped up her tea and moved to sit herself on the couch. 

On the coffee table was a small freezer bag about half-way filled with pot, Machk's favourite bong, a plethora of lighters, about six empty packs of cigarettes and one that was still mostly full. The ashtray was virtually overflowing, which was a rare occurrence for Machk, as he emptied the thing religiously ever two or three days. All that ash must've piled up overnight. 

"Sorry, I know it's a mess-" 

"Mach, of all the times to be concerned that your coffee table is a mess, I don't think this is one of them. Now, come sit and tell me what's in your mind. I need a fucking cigarette and my house is uncomfortably quiet." the girl set her tea on the table top and sat herself crisscrossed on the couch, pulling a cigarette out of the pack in her coat. She picked up one of the multiple lighters on the coffee table and lit the cancer stick between her lips, patting the couch beside her with her free hand. 

Her friend was silent for a moment, but picked up his coffee and sat himself down on the couch anyway. He sighed quietly and sat himself down beside her, scratching the back of his neck and taking a sip of his coffee. "Thank you for coming." he finally spoke. "You know, I was reading and there was this article and it said-" 

"Suicide is contagious, right? That's what it said." she took a guess. Machk was bad for reading those kinds of things. Doing _research_ whenever something bad happened. 

"Yeah, that too." he mumbled. "It said to stay close to your friends, actually. That it's not a good idea to be alone right now." 

"Those kinds of articles always say shit like that." Bea scoffed. "Not that it's bad advice, but it's not exactly like any of us are in the mood for a good time." Machk laughed quietly, but it sounded like he'd done it because he thought he had to, and not because he'd really found the joke funny. It was a sentiment she understood well.

"Anyway, want a shot?" the young man's eyes flicked to peer at Bea through the corners. She nodded once and leaned forward onto one of her elbows, taking long drags off of her cigarette and ashing into the overflowing tray without a second thought. He got up off the couch, running a hand through his short, black hair in a way that made some of it stand on end. 

He grabbed two glasses out of the cabinet and a forty of vodka out of the fridge. Apparently the definition of _a shot_ to Machk was half a glass. _I'm going to be shitfaced if I drink all that._ Bea suppressed a sigh and maintained a neutral expression on her face, pretending as though she hadn't noticed the monstrous amount of vodka that was being presented to her. She thanked Machk quietly and took the cup, taking a sip and choking it back, doing her best not to twist up her face as the awful taste. 

The pair sat there making awkward small talk, neither of them particularly focused on their drinks. On her fifth or sixth cigarette, Machk asked her a strange question. "How come you came? I thought you didn't want to see me anymore." 

She had to think on that. Think about what she wanted to say, how she wanted to place her words to make her motivations sound a whole lot less shitty than they really were. But Machk knew her well. Arguably almost as well as Dasan had, and he had known her dangerously well. He knew exactly why she was there, and she knew that. He just wanted her to say it, and that put a disgusted feeling in her stomach.

"I... maybe I should get home. I really haven't drank anything and my mum's gonna be wondering where I-" she sputtered, reaching for her tea and getting ready to dart out of that apartment. Machk grabbed her wrist and held her still.

"It's okay, you can say it." he sounded almost a little sad, as opposed to angry. "You just came for sex, didn't you? Because you're upset and you just want to feel something. Anything, right? Because anything is better than feeling like this." 

Nervous, Bea sat herself back down and took a sip of her tea. "I'm sorry, Mach. I know that's not fair to you. It's... it's really shitty." she let out a shaky breath. "You just didn't want to be alone, didn't you? Just wanted a friend." 

"Yeah, I did." he looked down at his hand, still wrapped around Bea's wrist. He let her go and awkwardly placed his hands in his lap. "But it is partly my fault. I mean, I texted you at five in the morning assuming you weren't sleeping and kissed you the minute you stepped in the doorway. I guess I just... I didn't want to be alone, no matter what that meant." 

"Yeah," she hung her head. "I know what you mean." she took another sip of her tea and set it down on the coffee table.

Machk lifted her chin with one hand and offered her a weak smile. He asked her quietly if he could kiss her, "Is this really what you want, Machk?" Bea's voice came out as barely above a whisper, their faces barely an inch apart. 

"Yes." the young man's voice came out strong, and steady. He pulled her into a kiss that set her nerves ablaze. She leaned into it, almost desperately, almost like she was truly mistaken that what she knew was nothing more than meaningless, romantically devoid sex was going to save her from the pain she was feeling. Was going to do Machk any emotional favours. Like it was going to fix anything.

And she knew it wasn't. She knew she was just going to feel worse by the time she went home. But she fucked him. Again, and again, and again. Until the sun started to set, until they were so exhausted that Bea nearly fell asleep on his chest. And by that time she was so consumed with wondering what to do next, she'd almost forgotten what had taken her there in the first place. 

Bea sat herself upright and ran a hand through her knotted, messy hair. She reached over to grab her shirt when she felt Machk's hand on her thigh. Her eyes fell closed and she held her breath, anticipating a remark about the... unfortunate condition of her skin. 

"You're getting really thin, Bee. I'm worried about you." he spoke calmly, his voice incredibly tender. Somehow, that was worse.

"It's fine, really." she plastered on a fake half-smile in an attempt to be reassuring. "I've gained weight since the last time I saw you." this seemed to soothe the young man, if only for a second. His face was quick to twist into a frown.

"I-"

"Don't." her tone was firm. "I'm fine, I promise. There are a whole hell of a lot more important things to worry about. Like... _oh shit._ I was supposed to go see Nuna today." Bea's eyes popped open wide at the realization. 

"Fuck, I knew that." Machk slapped his palm into his forehead. "Okay, I'll let you go then. Uh, let me know when she finally lets you go home, though." he tried to laugh. Bea just nodded and dressed herself quickly before sprinting out of the tiny apartment, down the stairs and to her car. She started the engine and took off toward Nuna's house.

She'd already kept the poor woman waiting for damned near four hours, she'd do well not to make her wait any longer.


	8. 8

When Bea finally arrived at Nuna's it was rapidly getting dark. She practically flew out of her car and up the tiny steps onto the porch, knocking on the door firmly. A minute or so later, a figure appeared behind the stippled glass, though Bea knew it could only be one person. It was Nuna. Her husband had died when Bea was still in middle school, Machk had moved out about three years ago, and well, Dasan was gone.

The lock for the deadbolt clicked and the door swung open. Though Bea wouldn't have imagined it possible, Nuna looked worse than Machk had. Still, Bea reminded herself that Nuna and Machk had it infinitely worse than she did. That was her son, his brother. Bea's former friend.

"Hi, Nuna, I- I'm so sorry I'm so late." Bea rubbed the back of her neck, nervous. Nuna's exhausted face twisted into a warm smile and she wrapped the girl in a hug. "It's good to see you."

"It's good to see you too, Bea." the woman whispered into Bea's hair. "I was anticipating you would be, and Machk let me know you were on your way."

She let Bea go and gestured for her to come into the house. Pulling her sleeves over her hands, reeling with anxiety, Bea stepped inside. She kicked her shoes off and wandered in a few feet further. Nuna walked past her and into the kitchen, and Bea followed a few feet behind her.

The kitchen was a mess. The dishes looked like they hadn't been done in days the way they were piled up at the sink. School work was strewn across the island counter top, most if it appearing to be chemistry and physics.

"I'm so sorry for the mess. I've been working nights and I'd asked Dasan..." the nurse choked for a moment. "Asked him to clean up. He must've forgotten."

"My place is always a mess." Bea tried to offer her a smile, but tears were streaking down Nuna's face so rapidly that she knew that a smile was absolutely not going to reassure her.

Nuna sniffled and wiped the tears out of her eyes, drawing a deep breath and exhaling slowly. "But I didn't call you here to complain about dirty dishes. I had a few things I wanted to give you."

"Oh, uh, Nuna thank you but... why?" she was nervous to ask the question. It didn't make sense to her that Nuna would've even wanted to see her, let alone be kind, even less so that she wanted to _give_ Bea anything. The nurse and her sons had always been incredibly close, and that meant that she was _more_ _than aware_ about the real reasons that she and Dasan had stopped being friends.

"Make no mistake, Bea, I don't respect a lot of the decisions you've made. You hurt Dasan more than anyone ever has." she ran a hand through her, long, shiny black hair. "But he asked me to give you some things. He forgave you, and that means I have to, too."

 _You don't have to,_ Bea thought. Still, she nodded and offered Nuna a quiet _thank you._

"It's in his bedroom. I'll be right back." she turned away, still wiping tears from her eyes, and disappeared from the kitchen. Bea sat quietly, patiently waiting for her to return.

A few minutes later, Nuna came back with a fair-sized box in hand. She set the box on the kitchen table and gestured for Bea to join her there. Nervous, Bea nodded and came to sit beside her at the table. She had to sit up a bit to see inside the box, and when she did, her heart sank. The box was filled to the brim, Bea assumed there was much more in there than she could see. At the top, covering most of the other items was the hoodie she'd bought for his seventeenth birthday. He'd always found the Rip'n'Dip cat funny, and so she'd saved up what she could from what her mother had given her for lunch money to buy one for him. The way his face had lit up when he'd taken it out of the gift bag was worth a whole lot more to Bea than the sweater.

On top of it was a sheet of paper with Times New Roman font covering the whole front side. Carefully, Bea picked up the paper and set it down. She wanted to read it, but she wanted to see what was in the box first. Nuna's eyes on her, however, made the girl opt to just read the note first.

_Dear Bee,_

_If you're reading this, it's one of two things. I'm back in the looney bin and mum's given it to you because you've come rushing over hoping I'd still be home packing, or I'm dead. And for the sake of my sanity, I hope it's the latter._

_Now, with that in mind I had some things I wanted to tell you. I would've just texted you, but you changed your number and never bothered to let me know what it was. I assume the reason for that was because of me anyway._

_I get that you want to make this about you, I get that because that's what you do and what you've always done. I always found that interesting about you. And while what's happened has nothing to do with you, there are somethings that do concern you that I wanted to address._

_I wanted to say that I forgive you. Not because I think what you did was okay. It wasn't, it's not, and it never will be. I forgive you because despite everything, I never want you to go through the pain I went through losing you. And, I guess if I'm dead... then, I did hurt you._

_I guess we're even._

_But you're wondering why, aren't you? I don't think I owe you that, Bea. I don't. And, yeah, I know it's cruel but the truth is some part of me resents you so deeply that I don't care if you spend the rest of your life wondering why and if there's anything you could've done. There wasn't, and I think you know that._

_Even still, as much as I resent you, I still have a lot of love for you, Bee. You used to be my everything. You still_ **_are_ ** _my everything. And I'm grateful I don't have to watch you destroy yourself anymore because watching you die right before my eyes hurt a whole lot more than anything else you could've possibly done. You broke my heart on purpose, but you shattered it by actively choosing to passively kill yourself every fucking day._

_And it hurts me to say it, but looney bin or grave, I figure I'll be seeing you soon. Given the likelihood of the grave, I can only hope I don't see you for an incredibly long time. You deserve a good life, Bea. Let yourself have one. If not for yourself, for me._

_Please._

At some point Bea's eyes had welled with massive tears and her clenched jaw ached. She covered her mouth and breathed heavily, trying desperately to control the sobs that threatened to shake her entire body. When she finished reading, Bea set the paper down to the side and held her head in her hands. Her palms covered her face as she bawled, sobbing uncontrollably for what felt like eternity.

Nuna didn't speak, didn't reach out, didn't move. She stayed entirely still.

"Nuna, don't forgive me. Please. I haven't done anything to deserve your forgiveness, and quite honestly, you have every right to be angry with me." Bea wiped her eyes aggressively. She wanted to stop crying.

"Don't you dare try to preach to me about forgiveness." Nuna's tone was sharp. "My son is _dead_ and you want to tell me about forgiveness? You want to sit here and wallow in your self pity and make this about yourself? _How dare you?_ You're damned right I have every right to be angry with you! He was never the same after you, and no matter how hard I try, Bea, I will _always_ blame you for this." the woman was livid, and Bea could tell. She hadn't intended to make Nuna angry, to make it sound like she was making this about herself. But, as she seemed to do with all things, she'd managed to.

"I will _never_ understand how Dasan managed to put up with this kind of behaviour. He was a beautiful soul, but even he had a breaking point. I don't understand what's so special about you. You're a trainwreck, Bea Belmonte." Nuna paused, clenching her hands into fists and releasing them. "And I wish my boy had the courage to look away."

_I wish my boy had the courage to look away._

Those words struck the hardest blow of any she'd heard in her life.

"I..."

"Yes, you should go home. Take the box and go." Nuna flicked her hand at Bea as if to _shoo_ her out of the house. The sick feeling in her stomach had returned, and Bea picked up the box, slinking out of the house without another word. Nuna had come to the door behind her, pulling it open to usher the girl out. "And stay the hell away from Machk before you kill him too."

Bea nodded, not daring to speak, and retreated into her car. She sat herself down, filled with an overwhelming numbness. The girl strapped the box into the passenger's seat and drove herself home, barely aware of her surroundings. She pulled into the driveway and turned to the box of belongings.

Carefully, she unbuckled the box and carried it out of the car, into the house and up the stairs to her bedroom. She stared at it for a few minutes before setting it down on the floor and sitting down in front of it. Curious, but cautious, she started to remove the contents to examine them. First, of course, was the sweatshirt. She tucked it into her chest, taking a deep breath before realizing it still smelled like him.

Not wanting to spoil that, she set it on the bed to her left and kept looking through the box. Beneath the sweater was a framed photograph, the one he'd posted to Facebook. There was a pair of earrings that she'd never seen before, though they were gorgeous. Attached to them was a note, written in Dasan's incredibly neat printing.

 _Happy birthday, Bee,_ it read.

With a quiet, sad sigh, Bea moved the earrings and the photo out of the box to put them on the bed beside the hoodie. The only other items in the box were a half-empty bottle of cologne, a CD case with a list in the cover and nothing inside, and a fair-sized envelope filled with other photos of herself and Dasan, some dating back as far as middle school.

Too emotionally drained to deal with the weight she felt surrounding the photos, Bea turned to her phone. She decided to open T's text messages first.

T: hey bee, i hope youre doing okay. i know things arent so good right now

T: but i just wanna say im here for you through all this

T: the group therapy was actually a really good idea

T: you should come next time were having another next week

T: they seem to have suicide support groups all the time

T: you know how they say suicide is contagious?

T: im worried youre close enough in the radius

T: so basically what im tryna say is if youre hurting please let me know

T: i wanna help however i can

T: i dont wanna lose you.

With a sigh, Bea figured she should answer him. She'd left the poor guy waiting for over a day. She supposed she owed him a response.

Bea: Hey, T. Thanks so much for checking in. Sorry for taking so long to respond, I've kinda been off in outer space. Nothing quite feels real, lol. Take care of yourself, I'll talk to you in a few days.

She knew that response likely wouldn't make T feel any better, but she didn't have the energy to give him a more detailed response. The fact of the matter was, she didn't really have the energy to answer any of the rest of her notifications. Even still, she knew she should at least see what they said. The other text messages were from her mother, just asking her to please take care of herself and to be home before dark. One was from Machk, an apology.

Machk: Hey Bee. I'm sorry. I hope you made it home safe and that mum was civil with you. I'm sorry it was weird to see me.

The text had only come through about fifteen minutes prior. Bea breathed out a sigh, and with guilt in her heart, she responded to the text in as awful a manner as she could.

Bea: Look, Mach, what happened today was fucked up. I hope you understand I don't want to see you anymore. I'll be blocking your number once this text sends. Don't try to contact me.

When she hit send, tears began to spill from her eyes. This wasn't what she wanted. She wanted to cling to him like glue, but she knew she couldn't. She didn't dare. The fact of the matter remained, Nuna was right. Bea would do best to stay away from Machk before she killed him too.

Stifling a sob, she pressed the block button on his contact. The action, seemingly simple and small, made her heart feel as though it was breaking into a thousand pieces. She wanted nothing more than to unblock him and sputter apologies so profusely her tongue would tie itself in knots, but she didn't dare.

She owed him this favour.

The last text she had was from Haris.

Insufferable Shithead: you leave your buddy for one day and he croaks holy fuck guess you shoulda been there plastic

 _Of course_ she thought. _Count_ _on_ _Haris to make_ _everything_ _as much worse as was_ _physically_ _possible._ The girl opted not to respond to him at all. She wasn't going to give him the free rent in her head.

Exhausted, having just read those few texts, Bea told herself she would look through her other notifications in the morning. She put her gifts from Dasan back into the box and curled up in her bed under the blankets, trying to sleep.

After hours of futile attempts at resting, she finally succumbed to sleep, the skin of her arms and legs burning.


	9. 9

**Three weeks** **later...**

There was one week left until graduation. When Bea had managed to drag herself to school, she presented herself as Plastic as ever. Proud and arrogant, cold and aloof. She'd spent her days more alone than ever, pushing T away yet again. He was driving her mad with his concern for her wellbeing.

_Didn't he fucking get_ _it_ _? Was he so stupid_ _that_ _he didn't_ _understand_ _that she couldn't be fucked to care?_

For the first time in her life, Bea felt so awful that she almost felt good. Like there were no obligations. She didn't care about anything. After school she got high with Haris, whom she couldn't stand and simply used for drugs. During her spare she snuck off school property to smoke joints with Beckett. The two of them didn't really speak, save for that day in particular.

Valentina had followed them out of the school and across the field, into the empty lot off the property. She seemed more stressed and high strung than Bea could imagine possible. The other girl paced back and forth at a nauseating speed while Bea took alternating puffs off of the joint she was sharing with Beckett and the cigarette in her other hand.

"What the hell's going on with you?" Beckett asked finally, narrowing her eyes at her friend. Her voice came out scratchier than usual, which Bea remarked as odd. It suited Beckett more than the attempts she made at a more soothing tone of voice.

"Fuck, fuck!" Valentina didn't answer the question, she just shouted and tugged on her hair, dragging her fingers like claws down her cheeks. "Fuck, Beckett, that's what!"

"That doesn't mean anything to me, Tina. I'm not a mind-reader." the girl huffed, killing off the joint and throwing the roach to the ground, stomping it out beneath her Louboutin's. How that girl managed to afford them, much less wear those things to school all day had never failed to astound Bea.

Valentina whipped around to face Bea. "You keep your lips _sealed_ about this one, Plastic." she hissed, her face getting uncomfortably close to Bea's. The other girl nodded once and pushed Valentina back a bit. The platinum headed girl pulled her mouth to the side and shrugged her shoulders inward before huffing out a sigh. She rolled her shoulders back again and clenched her hands into tight fists. "Garth and Angelica are throwing me out. Said _you're_ _eighteen now, no use to us._ And the foster system won't take me back. I've got nowhere to go."

"I don't see why you don't just-" Beckett didn't get to finish before Valentina started shaking her head.

"Because that's not an option. Eldar's parents fucking hate me, and need I remind you, _you're a ward of the goddamned court._ You can't afford to have me around. Especially not blowing your cheques on Louboutin's. Not unless I find work first." Valentina sighed, sitting herself down on the ground in front of Beckett and Bea with her head in her hands. "I'm screwed. I've gotta be out by Saturday."

It was a Thursday, and as much as she hated Valentina, the idea of her being out on the street alone didn't sit well with her. "There's Ottawa Innercity Ministries. I'm sure you can stay there until you find somewhere else to go." Bea offered.

"Oh jeez, thanks Plastic! It's almost like I didn't think of that." she huffed out a heavy breath. "Thanks, captain obvious."

Put off, Bea just shook her head and told the two girls she was going inside. She wandered into the school, stretching her back and yawning. There was a class in the art room, but she let herself in anyway. Set herself down and pulled out her final project, and continued painting where she had left off that morning.

The painting itself was beautiful. A four by four foot realism painting of herself and Dasan, meeting at what she could only imagine were the gates of heaven. She didn't believe in a God or a heaven, but she took solace in the thought that perhaps there was an opportunity for her to meet Dasan again somewhere. Painting herself was difficult, but she did try to capture the image as best she could. Every bump and jutting bone of her figure put discomfort in the girl's stomach.

When the bell rang, she packed up her painting supplies and trudged off to her trigonometry class. The rest of the school day was unremarkable, save for her final moments in the building on her way home. She was cornered by perhaps _the_ most unexpected person. Eldar Dzidic, Valentina's boyfriend had as good as chased her into one of the corners off the edge of an art display case.

Realizing she wasn't going to escape, Bea huffed a sigh and folded her arms over her chest, staring up at the massive young man in front of her. "Can I help you?" she suppressed her urge to roll her eyes.

"It's Valentina. I saw you with her earlier." he spoke in a calm manner, though his body language suggested the contrary. His massive, nearly seven-foot body shifted uncomfortably as he spoke, his weight transferring from one foot to another. He was nervous to be around her.

_No one wanted to be caught dead talking to Plastic. Especially not these days._

"And? What? She can't talk to people? Look, if you're trying to throw a hissyfit over who she's talking to, Eldar, you're barking up the wrong tree." Bea scoffed, pushing past him to head out to the smoke pit.

"No, it's not that." the boy sounded almost hurt that Bea would make such an accusation. The truth was, she wasn't entirely sure why she'd made it. She'd never heard anyone say a bad thing about Eldar beyond that he _didn't talk enough._ "Is she okay? Is she in danger?"

Reluctantly, Bea gestured for Eldar to follow her to the smoke pit. When she got out there, she led him down the sidewalk a ways, out of earshot of the others who were out there. The girl set her binder down and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. She cautiously offered one to Eldar, who politely declined. With a shrug, she put the pack away, lit her cigarette, and finally responded. "What has she told you? I don't know much, probably no more than you do."

"She hasn't told me anything. Just hasn't been herself." he sighed, furrowing and rubbing his brow.

"Are Garth and Angelica her parents?" Bea posed the question cautiously. She'd never been fond of her parents, but never had considered that she should refer to them - in front of others - as Antonio and Isla.

"Something like that." Eldar nodded.

"Apparently because her birthday is coming up soon they've told her she needs to leave." Bea shrugged. "That's all I know. And you didn't hear _shit_ from me. Pin your knowledge on loose-lipped Bieri or one of their unimportant friends." she took a drag off of her cigarette.

Eldar nodded, cursing under his breath a couple of times. "Thanks." he nodded. "Appreciate it." and with that, the boy turned and disappeared into the mass of bodies still pouring out of the school.

Rolling her eyes, Bea started down the sidewalk in the direction of the student parking lot. She made sure to finish her cigarette before approaching her car to find T leaned against it. He looked some upset.

"Where the hell have you been? You know what? Actually, don't answer that. I'll tell you where you've been. You've been running around getting high and fucking around with Haris. Haris, who, need I _fucking remind you,_ has been on a mission to make your life hell for as long as I can remember. All the while, your real friends have been worried sick about you. You're dying Bea, I can see it in your face. And quite honestly, I don't even know why I'm standing here. I don't owe you anything. I tried, I fucking tried to be your friend. I ignored everything Gerranus and Aleka said about you because I was hoping - foolishly hoping - they were wrong about you. That the Bee I grew up with was still in there. I've tried _so fucking hard to be your friend._ I'm starting to see now why you've got none." T's words were rapid-fire, and Bea just stood there, taking in every one. "I've been trying to tell you for a goddamned week now, I'm going on a date with Aochen tonight because I thought you cared. But clearly you don't. So, do with that information what you will." Bea just nodded. She had no response, no excuses.

"Aren't you going to say something? I fucking hate when you do this!" T shouted, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

"I'm sorry, T. I don't know what to tell you. You're right. You're totally right. I don't have any reason or any excuse. I can only tell you I'm sorry, but I'm not willing to lie to you and say it won't happen again." Bea sighed quietly.

"I know it will. I know it will because it's you and you just love your empty, meaningless apologies. And don't think I don't understand why you do this - because Bea Belmonte is afraid to care about anyone. You tell yourself that you care about other people Bea but you can't. You can't because you're afraid. You're afraid that caring about people - about things - makes you weak, when it's a whole hell of a lot weaker to not care at all." T huffed out a deep breath and knotted his brows together. "So, I guess what I'm trying to say is this; I'm done. I'm done trying to be your friend because you're too much of a coward to have any."

"I understand. Take care of yourself, T. And enjoy your date with Aochen. Just... just know I hope you told him the truth." Bea spoke quietly as she stepped away from him to get into her car. T didn't respond until she was already in the car.

He rapped his knuckles on the driver's side window before leaning away and gripping his elbows, pulling his arms into himself. "It's Aurelius, by the way." was all he said before he walked away.

 _Aurelius,_ she thought, _it suits him._


	10. 10

As Aurelius had so eloquently accused her, Bea climbed into her car and started off to Haris'. She hated the bastard as much as she always had, but she'd worked hard to convince him _and the people around them_ that the pair were friends now. It was integral to her plan, and she wasn't going to let anyone - not even Aurelius, with all his good intentions - muck it up.

So, when she arrived, the girl climbed out of her car, binder in hand and purse slung over her shoulder she marched up to the door. Haris swung it open before she could knock as he always did. He'd gotten so used to her being around that for the most part all he wore were boxers and his binder. Not that he had much to cover up, they'd been fucking for weeks and if Bea was honest with herself she didn't know if that was to fill the void of Machk being out of her life, or if it was somehow part of her plan to ruin his life.

Whatever it was, the sex was good.

Today when Haris stood in the doorway he held a cigarette in his hand, his dark hair was in disarray like he'd just woken up. "I texted you not to come today." he whispered. Bea knit her brows together and frowned before lifting one arch to give the boy a questioning look. "My fucking dad's here you idiot. If he sees _either_ of us, I'm getting my fucking ass beat. Now scram before you've gotta take me to a fucking hospital." he shooed her out of the doorway and closed the door in her face, though he did so with expert silence.

Some part of her wanted to wander back into that house and make sure Haris did get his ass beat, but part of her wanted to get him out of there. After all, she _was_ pretending to be his friend. With a sigh, Bea got into her car and pulled her phone out of the pocket of her blazer. She bit down on her lip, thinking hard about what she was going to do, going to say, holding the phone in her hand out in front of her. When she looked up from the black screen of the phone in her hand, she noticed Haris staring out the window and a figure come up behind him.

A sick feeling settled in Bea's stomach as she watched through the window. Both men were shouting at each other with such volume Bea could almost make out what they were saying from her car. She paused for a brief moment, contemplating running into the house to get Haris, make up some kind of excuse to get him out of there, but decided against it.

After all, he had told her if his father saw her, he'd _get_ _his_ _ass beat._

A lump was forming in the girl's throat as she turned her attention back to her phone. For another second, she considered phoning the police. Finally, she landed on child protective services. She couldn't remember if Haris was seventeen or eighteen, but she assumed that CPS would be her best bet anyway. She searched up the phone number, called and left the address and explained the situation before pulling away from the house and driving away.

She'd text him when she got home.

When the girl arrived at her home, she pulled out her phone to text Haris and make sure he was okay. Physically, at least. To her surprise, she had a text from him already.

Insufferable Shithead: he already saw you belmonte should have fucking stayed home like i told you what the fuck were you thinking

Bea: I'm sorry Haris, I didn't know. Are you okay now?

She typed and sent the text with blinding speed as she got out of the car. She wasn't expecting a quick response. She didn't get one. Instead, with her heart pounding, Bea let herself into the house and wandered past her mother, drunk at the kitchen table. She sat herself in her bedroom and looked around blankly. Nothing drew her interest.

Quietly, the girl sat herself on her bed and curled up on her side beneath the blankets, still dressed in her school uniform. She turned the volume on her phone up as high as it would go and laid there, staring at the wall ahead of her. There was a drawing hung there, pointilism water lilies she'd done for an art class, that put a saddened weight on her shoulders. She hadn't drawn for weeks.

Sighing quietly, the girl sat herself up and shuffled over her bed to the foot where she kept her sketchbook. The last few pages were filling with nonsense ramblings she'd written drunkenly after breaking into her mother's liquor cabinet. Carefully, she turned to a blank page and began to sketch. There was no image in her mind, she just allowed her hands to form shapes as she sat there, watching it unfold.

About an hour later her phone went off, notifying her of a text. She set her pencil down and turned to the device to see that Haris had finally answered her.

Insufferable Shithead: yeah im fine thanks i guess

Bea: Thanks for what?

Insufferable Shithead: dont play dumb with me belmonte i know you called cps

Insufferable Shithead: im fine tho staying with my grandparents for a while dont have anything but a suitcase so idk how much ill see you

Bea: Okay, well I'm glad you're safe. If you give me their address I can come in an hour and we can get coffee or something if you need to talk.

Insufferable Shithead: its like you dont listen i dont do feelings jams bee

Insufferable Shithead: ill see you at school

Bea responded with a short 'okay' and turned herself back to her drawing. It was coming together surprisingly well. A rough sketch at the moment, but she'd fill it in. A piece filled with the faces of everyone she'd ever fucked over. From Machk to Ardin to Aurelius, they were all there. Seeing them all together made Bea uneasy but she wanted to finish the drawing. She felt like she owed them that.

Hours whizzed by and soon enough it was dark. Her hand was covered in graphite from perfecting the faces in the drawing. Isla had come and gone, asking Bea to come and eat with her and Antonio. She was so fixated on finishing the drawing that it took her until she finished to realize it had been three days since she'd eaten.

There was no hunger left in her fragile body. Only emptiness. Emptiness both physical and emotional that ran so deeply she felt as though there had never been anything to fill her as a person. But when she looked down at her sketchbook, she knew that was a lie. She'd had so many people. So many fucking people who had gone out of their way to love her and she had ruined _everything._

She had ruined everything because _that_ is what Belmonte's do. No matter what her father tried to tell her, Belmonte's don't win. Belmonte's don't succeed. Belmonte's lie, they cheat, they steal. _They ruin every fucking_ _thing_ _they_ _touch_ _._

When Bea finished her drawing, she held it up to look at. Every little imperfection glared at her, but she tried to look past them and smile. Unfortunately, the smile never came. Only rage. She wanted to rend the paper apart, tear it to shreds until it was unrecognizable as a sheet of paper, but she chose not to.

She breathed a heavy sigh and tossed the sketchbook to the foot of the bed yet again and got up for a cigarette. When she got up, she grabbed her phone and checked the time. Three fifty-seven in the morning. She was going to hate herself in a few hours, that was a guarantee. Still, she sauntered down the stairs and popped outside to smoke her cigarette.

Wrapped tightly in a blanket, she sat on the patio, shivering uncontrollably. Still, she enjoyed the fresh air. Despite the air cutting freezing knives into her skin, it felt good to feel something.

When she finished her cigarette, Bea got up and wandered back into the house. She closed the door quietly behind her and wandered up to her room, not quite making it up the stairs before slipping on the stairs and falling onto her face, hitting her head quite hard on the top stair. Darkness was the last thing she remembered.

When Bea's eyes fluttered open, she found herself in bed. In _her_ bed. A sigh of relief at the sight of the stippled ceiling with the Blink-182 poster overhead made a sigh of relief escape her lips. _Thank fucking god._

She wondered why her parents hadn't taken her to the hospital, but she opted not to question it. Perhaps she'd put herself there, after all, it wasn't uncommon for the girl to faint and then put herself to bed when she awoke. Carefully, she sat herself upright. Her head was pounding, the movement made it leagues worse. She frowned and turned her head gently to either side to look for a note from either of her parents. Laying on her bedside table, she found one.

Furrowing her brow, Bea picked up the note and squinted her eyes at the note to read it as she picked it up from the bedside table.

_Good morning Bee,_

_You fainted on the stairs last night and I found you in your bed this morning. Your dad brought Camilla over and she checked you over and said you looked fine besides a mild concussion so dad will be driving you to school for your finals. She's also very concerned about your weight and is going to be ordering some blood tests and referring you to an eating disorder clinic for after your exams._

_I hope you feel better soon, Bee. You've already been out for about two hours._

_Love, mum_

"Fuck." Bea whispered under her breath. Camilla was her aunt, a medical doctor. She breathed a heavy sigh and shook her head. This was _not_ part of the plan. However, if things worked out in her favour, it wouldn't be a problem much longer. Breathing another sigh, she rolled her shoulders back and cracked her neck. She set the note back on her bedside table and took note of the Tylenol that was laying there beside a glass of water. A small smile crept across her cheeks as she picked it up and popped the small pill in her mouth, swallowing it with a big gulp of water. To her surprise, it was still cold. Her mother must have just left.

Carefully, she picked up her phone and took a look at it. The screen was cracked, that must've been from how she landed, but the time read eight fifteen in the morning. _Shit._ Suppressing a groan, she crawled out of bed and sauntered into the washroom, holding her head in her hand as she walked, hoping desperately that she'd be able to stand long enough to do her makeup in the mirror.

After about a half hour struggle, she had managed to get herself ready for school. Holding on tightly to the railing, she let herself down the stairs and into the kitchen where Isla was seated at the kitchen table with a shitty romance novel and a cup of coffee. Bea frowned at her for a second, wondering why her mother was so invested in those stupid books. Surely her loveless marriage was enough to tell that woman that love in and of itself was a sham.

"Morning mum," Bea called out to her, approaching the coffee pot and grabbing a travel mug to fill. Isla looked up at her over her bifocals as her daughter poured herself her coffee.

"Good morning sweetheart. How's your head?" Isla dog-eared her book page and set it down, getting up from her seat at the table.

Bea chuckled softly. "Hurts like a bitch." she shook her head gently. With her coffee in hand, she sauntered over to the fridge to grab a Boost shake. She was going to _need_ one of those. Isla paused as Bea opened it, which caught the girl's attention. She looked over to her mother and rose an arched brow in her direction. "Everything okay?"

"I'm just grateful I didn't have to ask," Isla spoke quietly, though her tone was sad. "I'm worried sick about you." she bit her lip and furrowed her brows. Bea just suppressed a groan yet again and unwrapped her Boost shake. She peeled the seal under the lid off and chugged the shake.

Once she had finished it, she rinsed the bottle and put it to the side to be recycled, grabbed her binder and looked to Isla over her shoulder. "Oh, yes, we should get going..." her mother sounded exhausted, as if she was going to fall asleep where she stood any moment.

"Are you okay to drive, mum? I can call someone to come and get me." Bea offered her mother a weak smile.

"No, no it's okay. I'll take you, I'm fine. I just have myself a little bit worked up is all. I had some things I wanted to talk to you about but they can wait."

Bea just nodded and pulled her purse off the coat hook, slinging it over her shoulder and starting out the door, her mother in tow.


	11. 11

The next day was Saturday. When Bea rolled out of bed, she picked up her phone immediately. There were no notifications awaiting her, not that she had been expecting any. With a soft sigh, the girl looked at her unanswered messages. There was a text from Valentina asking her if she'd heard from Beckett that had come through the day before. Bea furrowed a brow, curious as to how she'd missed it.

Bea: No, I haven't heard from her at all. I don't even think I saw her yesterday.

She hit send, hoping that Valentina wouldn't be too angry that it took her so long to respond. To Bea's surprise, the response came almost immediately.

Stuck-Up Barbie: whole lot of help you are. alright, I'll keep trying her then. I haven't seen her since I drove her home yesterday - which is nothing new I guess but usually she at least sends me pictures of her snakes on snap.

Bea: Did she tell you she was going anywhere? Mention anything? Maybe she crashed over at Aleka's or something, they're friends, aren't they?

Stuck-Up Barbie: no, she and gerranus are friends. she'd have told me if she was going to his place. I was hoping eldar would've heard from her but there's nothing there either. I really wish you knew where she went. I've called seven times because I'm kind of freaking out here

Bea: Just settle yourself. I'll try getting ahold of her and see what I can find out. No promises she'll respond though

Bea was still frowning at her phone as she rolled over to sit upright. She switched her contact over to Beckett, pressing the call button instead of trying to text her. It rung once before the call was declined. _That meant her phone wasn't dead and she was getting notifications._

"Okay," she whispered under her breath. She started trying to formulate how to write this text, but she needed to know whether or not Beckett was safe, wherever she was, whatever she was busy with.

Bea: Salut! Vous souvenez-vous laisser sortir le chien?

She hoped her French was coherent enough for Beckett to understand. Truth be told, she wasn't confident Beckett would even know what the phrase was intended to mean, but a response _yes_ would tell Bea she was safe. Fortunately, Beckett's family was French and English was her second language, so if Bea had at least gotten the right words in, Beckett should have known what she was talking about.

Beer-y: Oui

Bea sighed in relief and texted Valentina back quickly.

Bea: She was easy to get ahold of. She's fine, I don't know where she is but she said she's safe.

Beer-y: Envoyer de l'aide

Beckett's text came seconds after she had texted Valentina. _She must've thought the code meant 'do you need help' instead of 'are you safe?'_

Bea: Nevermind, she's not fine. She texted me 'send help' have you got an iPhone?

Bea didn't respond to Beckett, not until she heard back from Valentina.

Stuck-Up Barbie: yeah, I've got an iphone. I'll see if I can get her find my iPhone to work, she loses the damned thing constantly so I can set it up. how'd you get her to answer?

Bea: I texted her in French. I don't know if any of what I said is right but she replied fast in French.

She clicked away from Valentina and responded to Beckett to tell her that Valentina would be coming soon. Beckett didn't respond, but Bea assumed that she would be on standby if Valentina ran into any kind of trouble.

Seemingly the moment she locked her phone and got up to stretch, she was getting a phone call. Bea groaned and let it ring through without checking to see who it was. _If it was important, they could text her._ The minute it stopped ringing, it began to ring again. Huffing out a sigh, Bea picked up her phone and answered it without looking to see who was even calling.

"What?" she hissed into the receiver.

"Don't you fucking _what_ me like you weren't expecting I was coming. Get in the fucking car we're going to find Beckett." Valentina's seemingly naturally bitchy voice rang through the phone. "And while I loathe to say it, I need your help. So, get it together and get in the car so we can go. Now."

"Normal people give people a heads-up before showing up at their house. How did you even get my address?" Bea grunted into her phone, putting it on speaker and tossing it onto the bed so that she could get dressed at the bare minimum. "I look like a fucking crackhead, I hope you're happy."

"I really don't care. I got your address from your boyfriend, fucking obviously." Bea could imagine the girl rolling her eyes as her tone dripped with sarcasm. "I looked in the phonebook, Bea. Those exist you know."

She wanted to tell Valentina that the notion of Haris being her boyfriend was among the most disgusting things to ever leave the mouth of any person, but she withheld. If her plan was going to work, people needed to think she cared about Haris. That she was happy being Haris' _friend._ That she was happy - full stop.

"Yeah, yeah I know. Okay fine, I'll be right out." she rubbed her forehead with her fingers and turned to her closet.

 _There goes my Saturday,_ she thought. Valentina dropped the call and Bea was quick to dress herself, carefully sauntering down the stairs with her purse - empty, of course, save for a switchblade her father had given her - and told her mother that she was on her way out for coffee with Valentina. Isla seemed as surprised as Bea was expecting, and the girl waved it off.

"We're going to study for chem together, she's basically a math and science savant. I'm pretty sure she has, like, one-hundred percent in everything." Bea chuckled softly and waved goodbye to her mother before grabbing her pack of cigarettes and wandering out the front door.

She walked up to Valentina's car, the blue-eyed girl had a look of distaste in her eyes. "Don't think this makes us friends. You blew your shot at that already. But Beck trusts you and I need someone to come with me."

"Right, because I so desperately want to be friends with the only person I've ever met who could arguably be _made_ of plastic."

"Just get in the car, _Plastic._ " she spat the nickname like it was poison on her tongue. Grudgingly, with a sick feeling in her stomach, Bea climbed into the passenger's side of the car and buckled herself in. "Why'd you bring a purse, anyway?"

"Because I needed my mother to believe I was going out for coffee." Bea rolled her eyes as Valentina began to back out of the driveway. "So, where is Find My iPhone telling you to go?"

"That's your job. I drive, you give me directions. We hope whoever she's with didn't take her phone, it hasn't been lost or dropped. It's in the console." she replied, pushing the standard transmission into first gear. 

Following the auxiliary cord to the console, Bea fished out the phone, still unlocked, and stared at the screen. Quietly, she instructed Valentina through the city to a rather derelict apartment building downtown. "What the fuck would she be doing in a place like this? The Bieri's are rich, aren't they?"

"Beckett's a ward of the crown. But she still has a decent place. Not... whatever this is." Valentina steeled her gaze at the building and pulled up the e-brake. Her pale blue eyes flickered over to Bea and she gave her a calculating glance. "You ready to go in there, Plastic?"

Bea had never seen Valentina Alemna make a face like that. The intensity of her stare, the lack of fear in her eyes, the sheer determination to protect her friend was like something out of a story. Certainly not something Bea would have ever expected from Barbie herself.

"Yeah." Bea nodded once and unclipped her seatbelt, throwing open the door and slinging her purse over her shoulder. The girl shoved her hand into the bag and wrapped her hand around the switchblade gripping it tightly until her acrylics dug into her palm. "Let's go get Beckett."

Before closing the car door behind her, Bea grabbed Valentina's phone off of the seat and stared down at the screen. "How many floors you think this shithole is?" she asked, looking over her shoulder at the white-haired girl across the vehicle.

Valentina slammed the door shut and looked up at the building. "At least eight. But that also means there should be a desk in the lobby. Usually is in these big buildings. Eldar's lived in three or four of them." her eyes turned down to the entryway they were parked in front of and locking the car.

Bea passed her phone back and swallowed her nerves that were building up in her throat. She told herself that this situation was dangerous, but that she had to go through with it. The plan was held together by little more than strings at this point, and she was going to do anything and everything to ensure that it went as smoothly as she could possibly force it to go. And while Valentina and Beckett weren't integral to it, they did play a part. As such, rescuing Beckett was important.

Without a second's hesitation, Valentina started into the building. Started by her motion, Bea stepped in line behind her and followed closely. The white-haired girl, with an expert ease, approached the lobby desk with a plastic smile. She flicked her hair and fluttered her lashes and chatted up the young man seated there. Bea gagged at the thought of trying to force herself to flirt with someone who looked like _that_ but she supposed she would give Barbie some credit where it was due.

"You can't have come here on purpose, are you ladies lost?" the man asked, waggling his eyebrows in Bea's direction. Suppressing her urge to vomit, Bea plastered a smile across her cheeks.

"Oh no, we met a girl at the bar last night and she invited us over, but of course she forgot to tell us what unit she's in. I was wondering if you might be able to help?" Valentina was leaned forward on one hand, still looking repulsively interested in the slimy looking man behind the desk.

"What does she look like? Not too many ladies live around here." the man cocked a brow at the pair of girls in front of him. "Not the safest part of town, you know."

"Oh we can take care of ourselves," Valentina giggled softly. "She's blonde, maybe five-foot-five? Quite thin."

"Oh, she doesn't live here. Comes in sometimes, but she's usually with Willem. Crooked old bastard, that one." the man remarked. He pulled out a notepad and scrawled something down on it. Valentina gave him an infuriatingly perfect smile and waved goodbye before waving Bea over to the elevator.

"Christ I need a fucking shower." Valentina shuddered as soon as they stepped inside.

"You mind telling me just what the fuck that was?" Bea rose a quizzical brow at the other girl in the elevator. "I didn't even think you could _pretend to be nice._ "

"More than meets the eye, Plastic." there was a sort of sneer to her voice. "Unlike you. You're as hollow outside as you are on the inside." the rest of her thought was whispered near silently under her breath.

Carefully, with one perfectly manicured finger, she pressed the elevator button for the fifth floor and held the paper from the desk boy out in front of her. Peering over Valentina's shoulder, Bea took note that there was a request for a date and a phone number on the sheet, accompanied by _509_ scrawled in large letters.

They rode that few seconds up the elevator in silence, Bea unsure of how Valentina had anticipated she would respond to her comment. There was no adequate response, she supposed. When the elevator dinged onto the fifth floor, the girls stepped out into a dingy hallway covered in stained carpet and lit with a flickering light. Once again, Bea suppressed a shudder and reached into her bag for the pocket knife. She closed her fingers around the closed blade and steadied her nerves.

Seemingly with no hesitation, Valentina charged down the hallway, directed by a sign on the wall reading [505-510 → ].

Following close behind her, Bea's hand didn't leave the switchblade as Valentina's knuckles pounded on the door. 


	12. 12

When the door swung open, there was a man in a business suit behind it. He rose a curious brow at the girls in his doorway before his expression contorted into an awkward smile. The man had salt and pepper grey hair and jaded hazel eyes that had no apparent life behind them. The emptiness of his eyes made his smile uncomfortable for Bea to look at, though she pretended not to notice. His face was smiling, and in her social skills training, Bea was taught that when someone smiles at you, you smile back. So, plastering on her priceless Plastic smile, Bea slid herself between the man and Valentina. 

“Good afternoon sir. We don’t mean to disturb you, but we’re looking for our friend. You must be her dad.” she offered a hand for the man to shake. She seemed to have caught him off guard, as the man furrowed his brow in confusion yet again, appearing taken aback for a brief moment before frowning slightly.

“I’m sorry ladies, you must have the wrong unit. I don’t have a daughter.” he spoke calmly, as though this was a lie he told every day. Unfortunately for him, Bea was the least trusting person she’d ever known, and she had an uncanny knack for intuition. He  _ was  _ lying.  _ She could feel it.  _

“Oh! Our apologies. She lived in this unit for years, we’ve never met her dad since he served in the military so he was away whenever we were over.” Bea placed her words carefully. She had an idea of how to trap him, she just had to be careful. “I’m surprised she wouldn’t tell us she moved.” 

Valentina tugged on Bea’s arm as though she didn’t trust her not to turn around and leave. Of course, Bea didn’t particularly blame her. She wouldn’t have trusted a person like herself either, though she knew the reasons why far better than Valentina could ever hope to as to why she couldn’t be trusted. Still, she swatted the other girl away and continued to look up at the man, searching his face for a tell. If she could find just  _ one  _ hint that he was anxious, she’d know she had him. 

“That does seem odd. Maybe she’s just in another unit now. What does this girl look like?” the man cocked a brow at her. His poker face was good, but it wasn’t good enough. His Adam’s apple bobbed after he spoke. He  _ had  _ to be lying. 

“See, now that you mention it that’s totally possible. I hadn’t even thought of that. My friend here isn’t the best with directions so she dropped us a pin that brought us here still. She’s about a foot bigger than me, maybe a little less. Platinum blonde - obviously bleached, blue eyes. Cocaine skinny? Ring any bells?” Bea kept her face twisted into a friendly Plastic smile and her eyes - though soft and far from intimidating - trained on the man’s features. 

His eyes didn’t divert from Bea’s. Again his Adam’s apple bobbed. The man blinked once before clearly forcibly furrowing his brow and pulling his lips to the side. He audibly hummed for a moment before speaking. “I think I’ve seen her once or twice, but I don’t think she lives here.” 

“And, sorry sir, how long did you say you’ve been living here?” Bea tilted her head slightly and let her smile fall, her expression morphing into one of curiosity. 

“About a month.” he nodded curtly. 

“Well… that’s odd because we were  _ just  _ here a week ago. I can show you photos.” Bea furrowed her brow, hoping that she’d be able to call this man’s bluff before he called hers. “And… quite frankly I can’t imagine why - Tina can I see your phone? Sorry.” she turned to Valentina and held out her hand for the phone. There was a hesitation to Valentina’s movements, but the girl took out her phone, unlocked it and passed it to Bea. 

“Yeah, see here, it says her ping is one meter away.” Bea gestured to the phone screen, showing the man the application. Again, his Adam’s apple bobbed. 

_ She had him.  _

“You know what, actually I’m so sorry for bothering you. I’ll just give her a quick call and ask.” Bea closed Find my iPhone and opened Valentina’s texting app to find her spam texts to Beckett. She quickly tapped the screen to call Beckett and the man’s face flashed a strange expression. Bea held the phone up to her ear, listening instead inside of the apartment for Beckett’s ringtone or a vibration. To her surprise, behind the man on his kitched counter she could see a cell phone light up and begin to vibrate.  _ She motherfucking had him.  _

“Oh,” Bea pulled the phone away from her ear. “You can answer that I’m just waiting for her to pick up. Don’t let us intrude.” the phone went back to her ear. The man didn’t move. “Unless, of course, you really  _ have  _ seen our friend. In which case, I suggest you tell us where she is before I make a few more phone calls.”

The man peered over his shoulder and whistled. Bea furrowed her brow, turning to Valentina, who shrugged back at her. A moment later, Beckett appeared behind him. She looked rough, exhausted. Her hair was a mess and she had makeup down her cheeks, but she was unmistakably Beckett. No one spoke, Beckett grabbed her phone and her purse off of what Bea assumed was the floor behind the counter. She slid on a pair of Louboutin’s at the door and walked out of the apartment, the door slammed shut behind her. 

Still silent, the trio retreated to the elevator, where Bea passed Valentina her phone back. With her phone in hand, the Barbie broke the silence. “What the hell were you doing here? Who is that guy?” she sounded a combination of infuriated and worried sick, and her paler-than-usual complexion implied she felt that way too. 

“Look, thanks for the help and everything, but I really don’t want to talk about it. Okay?” Beckett’s dry voice was hoarse as if she’d been crying, a theory confirmed by the makeup streaks that ran halfway down her cheeks. “And before you ask, no, I don’t think I’ll ever want to.” 

Valentina huffed and folded her arms across her chest, clearly agitated by what Bea agreed was an unfair request, but one that was worded in a way that she was inclined to want to respect. The behaviour didn’t seem to move Beckett, however, as she remained entirely tight-lipped. Once again silent, the girls made their way back to Valentina’s car, where Bea was exiled to the back seat and taken home first. 

When she returned home she pulled out her phone to see if she had any notifications. There were a number of them, though she didn’t have the opportunity to read any before she heard her mother clear her throat from the kitchen.  _ Fuck,  _ she thought,  _ she had shit she wanted to ‘discuss’ with me.  _

Kicking off her shoes and setting down her purse, Bea made her way to the kitchen and sat herself down across from Isla, who was nose-deep in that accursed romance novel. She looked up over her bifocals, slipping a queen of hearts between the pages as a bookmark. 

“Hi mum, how are you?” Bea rose a brow at her mother. 

“I’m good, Bee. How are you?”

“I’m good, yeah. Valentina and I just did the first chapter and then took a break and-”

“Bea, what is going on with you?” Isla sounded angry. “You never were a good eater but this is getting ridiculous. I ask you to come and eat with me every night and you’ve always got some excuse. You’re rarely home during the evenings, always off with someone. Since when do you even talk to Althea Blackwing anymore, anyway?”

Bea drew in a deep breath and rubbed her forehead. She really didn’t want to talk about this. She’d already had enough of a day, the last thing she needed was to spend an hour listening to her mother cry and the rest of her night hiding out in her room doing the same. 

“We reconnected not long after Ardin died. We only  _ stopped  _ talking because I changed my phone number.” Bea shrugged off the latter question. “But the undeniable fact is everything’s gotten fucked up since Day died. I… I don’t feel like myself. I’ll be fine, I just… I just need time and I need space, mum.” 

Isla didn’t seem to like that answer. “How much do you weigh now? Don’t lie to me, I’ll ask the doctors when we go.” Isla pulled out her phone and opened it to her calculator. Considering that her mother was a licensed dietitian, this was a dangerous question. So much so it nearly evoked a flinch from the girl across the table. 

“Sixty-eight pounds…” Bea looked down at her hands in her lap. Her mother gasped softly after punching some numbers into the calculator app on her phone. 

“Bianca…” Isla’s tone had switched from one of anger and frustration to one of such unrivaled sadness it made Bea’s heart ache. “How could you do this to yourself?” 

“I don’t want to talk about it, okay? I just don’t. I don’t want to have this conversation with you. Not now, not ever. You’re always on about boundaries? This is a boundary. Don’t cross it.” Bea’s tone was firm, harsh even. She stood up from her seat and retreated to her bedroom, locking the door behind her. The girl was well aware she’d be in shit with her father when he came home for upsetting her mother, but he wasn’t one to actually  _ do  _ anything about her. 

With the door shut tightly behind her, Bea looked to her calendar. Four more days. “Just four more days…” she whispered to herself. She breathed a heavy sigh and flopped herself down onto the bed. A few minutes went by before she heard Isla’s footsteps come up the stairs and the sound of her mother’s back sliding down the wall outside her door. Shortly thereafter, she was subject to the sound of quiet cries and muffled speech coming from her mother. 

Rubbing her face, Bea shook her head and pulled out her phone and earbuds. She’d let Isla cry it out and when she settled down in an hour or so, Bea would let her in on the condition they didn’t discuss anything Bea wasn’t interested in talking about. However, the time was quick to get away from her and within no time it was dark outside and Bea was slipping out her bedroom window to sneak a cigarette, rather than pass by her mother in the hallway. 

She sat on the roof of the house, thinking about how relieved she was that the plan was almost complete. That nearly all of her bricks were in place. Only a few loose ends that needed to be tied up and then she would be set. A peaceful smile crossed her head at the thought. This had all been in the works for so long that seeing it come to an end was nearly surreal. It was strange, uncomfortable, though not in an inherently bad way. In a nearly exciting way. 

When she finished her cigarette, she had another. Moments after it was lit, Haris called. 

“What are you doing right now, Plastic?” he asked. The boy sounded exhausted, like he hadn’t slept since he’d been uprooted to his grandmother’s. 

“Sitting on my roof, listening to the faint sounds of my other’s cries and smoking darts. So, nothing really. What’s up?” her tone came out more eager than she’d intended but listening to her mother bawl had begun to stress her out. The guilt in her stomach wasn’t sitting well and she’d give anything to sneak the fuck out of there. 

“Alright, I’m picking you up and we’re going on a little trip.'' His tone was playful in a way that made Bea’s stomach flutter. If she was forced to give Haris credit for anything, it was that he was fun. Fun and exciting and… well, that was all she was willing to think on the matter. 


	13. 13

Not long later Haris pulled up in his shitty pickup truck. It was a dark red beater that sat so high it was hard for Bea to climb into, but when she spotted his headlights the girl proceeded to pop her cigarette between her teeth and started to climb off the roof. 

She dropped off of the lowest part of the roof, still a near five-foot fall for the tiny girl, and landed somewhat less-than-gracefully on the concrete driveway below. Getting up off her knees and scraping the small stones out of her skin. She climbed into the car, only then realizing that she was barefoot. 

With a sigh, Bea climbed into the truck. “Nice shoes,” Haris remarked with a laugh, cigarette hanging out of his mouth. Bea shook her head and pulled her own out from between her teeth, before putting it back and taking a long drag.

“I had more important shit to worry about. Like not disrupting my mother’s wine-and-cry in the hallway.” she said between drags. “So, where exactly are you taking me?” 

“Pine grove trail.” Haris grinned at Bea happily and tossed the truck into reverse before speeding off down the street. The pair chattered at each other casually as they drove, mainly talking shit about Isla as they made their way to the nature reserve. 

Upon their arrival, Haris tossed the truck in park and turned to Bea. “Open the glove compartment, will you?” he asked as he climbed out of the truck. Shrugging, Bea pulled it open to find his rolling tray, a dispensary container, a clipper, raspberry zig-zags and his grinder. Stacking the stuff onto the tray, Bea grabbed it and hopped out of the truck, getting onto her tiptoes to see over the box. Haris was on his knees in the box of the truck rummaging in something. 

“Well what the fuck you waiting for? Get in. I’m not just going to sit up here and look hot on my own.” Haris chuckled softly. Giving a soft snort, Bea passed Haris the rolling tray and set herself around to the tailend of the box, pulling it open and climbing up into the back. 

Inside the box were a number of blankets and a couple of pillows. He only had the topper half rolled back, but Bea crawled across the blankets to help him roll it back a little further. With the topper rolled all of the way back, Haris made himself comfortable on the blankets and patted the space beside him. “I only bite when you like it, Christ, come sit.” he reached over to his right and grabbed his rolling tray. 

“You’re a fucking weirdo, I hope you know that.” Bea rolled her eyes, climbing a little further onto the blankets to sit beside Haris, who was in the process of breaking up a nug and placing the pieces into the grinder. 

While he ground the weed and rolled the joint, Bea readjusted to lay on her back and stare up at the sky. The lights from the city still overtook the area a bit, but nowhere near the way they did at her house. She took a deep breath and fished out her cigarettes, popping another between her lips and letting a faint smile creep across her cheeks. 

“You know, I really miss Stratford. There were so many more stars out there.” Haris remarked quietly as he began rolling the joint. 

"I can imagine. I have an aunt in Saskatchewan and there's so many out there. She lives on this massive farm with horses and shit, it's really cool actually." Bea nodded, crossing her arm behind her head and taking a drag off of her cigarette. 

Haris chuckled softly as he brought the joint to his lips and lit it. After a long inhale and exhale, he looked down at Bea. "Hard to imagine Plastic Bea Belmonte calling a farm cool. Could I get you to say it again for Snapchat? This is like, fucking monumental." he flashed her a toothy grin before taking another hit and passing the joint to Bea. 

The tiny girl rolled her eyes and scoffed, taking the joint from her friend and inhaling deeply. She held the smoke in her throat for a second before letting out a slow exhale and looking back up at the sky, away from Haris. “I have no idea how you manage to be so… interested in life. Your life sucks.” she remarked quietly. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Haris furrow his brow. 

“Well yeah, life fucking sucks and then you die. That’s just a fact.” he shrugged, his tone sounded chipper despite the seemingly negative intent behind the words. 

Taking another puff off the joint, Bea passed it back and sat up as she exhaled. “That’s a little dark coming from an aspiring psychologist.” the girl huffed lightly, looking over to the boy beside her. “I can see it now - all your patients are going to fucking kill themselves.”

“Bold of you to assume I have any interest in clinical psychology. I couldn’t give less of a fuck about helping people with their problems. I’m gonna study cognitive and behavioural psychology. Gonna work in behaviourism labs.” 

“Oh great, so what then? You’re gonna pick brains all day and make people feel crazy? That’s not a particularly good way to make friends.” she joked, rolling her eyes. 

The pair continued to chat for a bit, finishing their joint and smoking a couple of cigarettes before getting up to wander around in the dark through the trees. When the sun was finally on its way up, they made their way back to the truck, clambering into the cab and driving back toward Bea’s house.

Before their direction was adequately determined, Haris had suggested quote, “Stopping for a quick fuck” before Bea had smacked him on the arm, bitched that she was tired, and demanded he take her home. 

Finally, they arrived at Bea’s house and Haris gave her a boost back onto the roof of the garage from the hood of the truck, allowing her to climb back in through her bedroom window. Once she was inside, she turned around and gave him a wave goodbye. The smirk on his face looked exhausted from having been up far too long, but there was just a twinge of something Bea was nearly delighted to see in his eyes. 

He cared about her.


	14. 14

The days leading up to Wednesday dragged on so long it felt cruel. But finally, the day arrived and  _ god was she excited. _

The graduation ceremony itself had been boring, but the photos turned out well. With the help of Isla and a shitload of hairspray, they had managed to twist her hair into elegant braided buns. Her face was covered in delicate makeup that suited her well enough it managed to make her gaunt, hollow features appear to have a ghostly elegance to them, rather than a haunting deathly look. 

In every photo she smiled brightly, with genuine joy, beaming with a pride that seemed uncharacteristic of her. Though she attributed most of her joy to her successful plan, she would nearly admit aloud that she was excited to be graduating. 

Come time for the banquet, the girl donned her grad dress. A long, yellow gown with a deep plunge neckline, lace sleeves and an elegant lace choker. The back was open, leading directly into the full-length skirt that flowed outward widely, several petticoats tucked underneath to give it the full ball-gown effect. 

Antonio’s face when he saw Bea in her dress was priceless. He beamed with a goofy sort-of pride and pulled out his phone. “Spin for me, Bonkers. Let’s see that dress fly.” his jaw was almost slack from the grin across his cheeks. 

Trying not to roll her eyes at the stupid nickname her parents had given her, Bea picked up her skirt and gave herself a twirl. Isla was laughing a bit in the background, seemingly elated that for the first time in literal  _ years  _ Bea had a genuine smile on her face. She was  _ having fun.  _

Post-spinning, the small family readied themselves to go to the banquet. They clambered into Antonio’s car and the three of them sped off to the community centre that the banquet was hosted at. Upon their arrival, Bea took notice of a few of her peers standing outside smoking, and asked her father to pull over for her to have a smoke with them. She didn’t know two of them who were there, but once her eyes fell on Beckett she decided she’d have to get out. 

Grudgingly, Antonio pulled over, muttering about her smoking but agreeing that it was better she got out there since trying to traipse through such a busy parking lot in six inch stilettos sounded hellish. 

Sliding out of the car, Bea pulled her pack of cigarettes out of her handbag and wandered up to Beckett with a cheery grin. Beckett’s pale blue eyes peered up at Bea and a twitch of a smirky grin flickered across her lips. “Happy grad, Plastic.” her voice was dry as usual as she took a long drag off her cigarette. The girl wore a short, raspberry red cocktail dress that starkly contrasted the pale, cool undertones of her skin. She looked really cool, actually.

“Happy grad, Beckett.” Bea huffed, popping her own cigarette between her lips. She lit it with the zippo her mother had gotten her as a grad gift, which Beckett held her palm out for. 

“Let me see that.” she popped her cig back between her lips, holding it there and snatching the Zippo from Bea. She turned it over in her hands several times, lighting it once and watching it burn for a moment. “That’s sexy, actually. Gotta get myself one of those.”

“If you can afford like eight fucking pairs of Louboutin’s you can afford a Zippo, Bieri.” Bea rolled her eyes. Once the words left her mouth, she stole a glance at Beckett’s feet, of course they were sporting a brand new pair of red bottoms. 

“I’ve only got seven, actually.” Beckett scoffed, though Bea recognized the sarcasm in her voice. 

The pair continued to chatter at each other while they smoked, taking the time to have a second cigarette before Haris approached. He waved, though he looked exhausted.

“Either of you bitches got a dart I can get off you? I don’t have a loonie but imagine I’m on my knees. I’ll suck Belmonte’s dick for a Classic, I swear.” he approached them quickly, rolling his shoulders uncomfortably. He  _ was  _ in a suit. It was  _ not  _ a men’s suit. 

_ His fucking grandparents.  _

“Your grandparents?” Bea fished out one of her cigarettes and passed it to him cautiously. The boy nodded vigorously and ran a hand through his hair. 

It was getting long. He’d been complaining about it a fair bit, but the girl had held out hope that perhaps he’d convinced them to let him cut it. 

“You bet your bony ass.” he huffed, the poor guy seemed livid. She wanted to try and make him feel better by complimenting his pantsuit but she had the feeling that pointing it out would only make him more angry. Haris popped the cigarette between his lips and Beckett passed him a lighter. She looked like she wanted to dismiss herself when he gave it back, but Haris spoke before she could. “If either of you hear shit about them callin’ me a  _ fucking girl  _ you didn’t hear a goddamned thing.” 

“Where’s your parents?” Beckett made the mistake of asking. 

“You don’t wanna hear it, Bieri.” Haris just rolled his eyes. “Thanks for the smoke, by the way.” he frowned a bit and cracked his neck between drags.

“Oh, yeah no problem.” Bea nodded. Seeming to take the brief silence that followed as an out, Beckett said she was going inside and all but ran into the community centre. 

“She’s on her way to tell that bitch Valentina all about it I’m sure.” Haris grumbled. Bea had to try not to laugh when his feelings about Valentina resonated with her deeply. 

“While I wouldn’t trust Beckett with much, I think she has better things to do than run around and talk shit about you. You pretty much do that yourself.” Bea shrugged. She didn’t particularly  _ want  _ to continue standing there with an incredibly miserable Haris, but she felt bad at the notion of just abandoning him. 

“She’d fucking better.” Haris huffed again, but a slight grin did twitch across his cheeks. 

When Haris finished his cigarette the pair made their way inside and to their tables. Other kids were stood around laughing and taking photos together. Girls were pretending not to be insufferable bitches to one another, complimenting each other’s dresses and talking about how much they’d miss each other. At a table near Bea's sat Nuna and Machk. A sick feeling crept up in her stomach when she laid eyes on them, but she simply averted her gaze and plastered on a smile toward her parents. 

“Aren’t you going to take pictures with your friends?” Isla rose a thin brow at her daughter. Bea gently scratched the back of her neck and smiled. 

“I think I want to wait until the grand march.” she nodded. She didn’t really want to  _ tell her mother she’d alienated pretty much everyone she’d ever cared about by being a miserable bitch,  _ so lying to her sounded like a good alternative. 

“Oh don’t be like that Bee. I’m sure people are more than happy to take photos with you now, instead. The grand march will be so crowded it’s better to just do it now.” Isla urged her on. Breathing a slight sigh, Bea nodded and got up from her seat, disappearing into the crowd of people surrounding the table. 

She was quick to set eyes on Aurelius. He looked great. To Bea’s surprise, he’d cut his long hair to just above his shoulders and he too was dressed in a pantsuit. Albeit a women’s pantsuit, he must have had some conversation with his parents that he’d gotten away with not even wearing makeup. 

Nervously, clenching and unclenching her fists, Bea approached him and gave the boy a small wave. He didn’t seem to notice her until she waved, but when she did he perked up a bit and waved her over. “Bee! You look incredible, I love that colour on you, it’s so, so nice. And your hair, I’d have thought you’d have worn it down. Oh, fuck, sorry I’m rambling. You look great. It’s good to see you.” he caught himself mid-ramble and scratched the back of his neck anxiously. 

“It’s good to see you too.” she nodded. “I’m sorry things didn’t end so good, I-” 

“I get it, Bea. Don’t worry about it.” there was a small smile that crossed Aurelius’ face. He seemed to be watching something over Bea’s shoulder. The girl turned her head to see Aochen, smiling like an idiot back at Aurelius. 

He wandered up to the pair, seemingly without a care in the world, and gave Aurelius a quick peck on the forehead. “Oh,” he looked down at Bea, seeming a little surprised. “Hi Bea, how’s it going?” he offered her a little wave. 

“Good, thanks, Aochen, yeah.” she nodded. She’d only ever spoken to the guy all of perhaps twice in her life, and was taken aback that he actually knew her name. She’d only ever heard wonderful things about Aochen, but what use he’d have being nice to her was kind of beyond her. 

“That’s good, definitely.” he nodded curtly and looked to Aurelius, arching a brow at him. “I take it you and Rel have… some kinda thing you need to talk through so I’m gonna give you some space, but if you want pictures or something I shouldn’t be too hard to find.” he gave the others a charming smile and made himself scarce.

He told Aochen his name. 

“So… you and Aochen?” Bea made a gesture with her fingers from the direction into which he had disappeared to Aurelius a few times. “Your date went well, then, I take it?”

“Fucking perfect.” Aurelius laughed. He ran a hand through his blonde hair and shrugged. “I want to… say thank you. For reminding me that I can be honest with people.” he bit his lip and glanced down at the floor. 

“I don’t know what you mean.” Bea furrowed her brow. 

“If you hadn’t made me so mad at you I would’ve never told you where the bear shits. And if it weren’t for that then… well, I wouldn’t have been reminded that it’s okay to be mad at people, and to be honest with how you feel. So, I talked to my parents that day. It didn’t go very well, but it’s a start. They’re learning. And… well, I talked to Aochen.” he held his left arm tightly with his right hand, hugging it into his body. “So thank you. I needed that lesson, Bea.” 

“I’m sorry I was such a bitch.” she spoke quietly, looking up at her former friend and trying to give him a sincerely apologetic smile. While Bea wasn’t sure the expression itself was successful, Aurelius took it anyway. “We good?” 

“Yeah, we’re good.” Aurelius gave her a nod and a small smile and he started to look around the room - Bea assumed for Aochen. “Pictures?” 

“Pictures.” she nodded, smiling softly, genuinely. 

She wanted this night to be memorable. 

***

Several hours later, Bea found herself at a grad party, hosted by none other than Gerranus Stormpike himself. He was notorious for throwing some of the best parties Bea had ever been a part of, and she felt lucky that he’d invited her at all. Especially knowing that although Aurelius had been pleasant to her at their banquet, he wasn’t interested in being friends. 

With a smirnoff ice light in one hand and a cigarette in the other, Bea stood and chattered amongst her peers, even ones she hadn’t necessarily gotten along with during their classes. Everyone was on their best behaviour tonight, doing their best to make a good final impression since this would be the last time a lot of them saw one another for a good long time. 

At the moment, she was standing with Beckett, Eldar and Valentina. Eldar didn’t talk much, but he was a surprisingly nice guy now that she’d given him a chance to speak, rather than bitching him out the instant she saw him. He was politely standing beside Valentina, holding her drink for her with his free hand. 

“I genuinely have no fucking clue how you drink these.” he remarked quietly, scanning Valentina’s bear claw, seemingly suppressing a shudder. “They’re fucking awful.”

“They’re fucking good, El, you just have no tastebuds.” Valentina shook her head and smiled up at him with the most gentle, affectionate eyes Bea had ever seen. 

She was in fucking deep with this guy. 

“You two are so in love it’s gross.” Beckett rolled her eyes, scuffing her sneaker in the grass of the back yard. As was typical of the blonde, she had a cigarette hanging out of her mouth, her hand wrapped around the neck of a bottle of Jack Daniels.

“Yeah, it’s almost as gross as your love affair with Jack over there.  _ That’s some nasty shit. _ ” Valentina chuckled softly. 

“You’re just bitching because you’re lonely.” Bea rolled her eyes, taking a sip of her drink. Over Beckett’s shoulder, she caught sight of Gerranus and Aleka approaching. A lump formed in her throat. She assumed that they’d be pleasant, but a part of her still felt nervous as they drew closer. 

“Hey!” Aleka waved to the small group with a pleasant grin on her face. Her cheeks were flushed from the liquor she’d been drinking but she was walking fine. Clung to Gerranus’ side like glue, but that wasn’t uncommon for her. “You guys having a good time? You’re kinda isolated, you look a little emo over here.” 

Eldar shook his head and looked to Gerranus, past Valentina. “Hey man,” he offered the slightly shorter boy a nod. 

“Hey,” Gerranus gave them all a small wave with his free arm. “How’s it going?” 

“Fine, thanks.” Valentina replied. “We’re making fun of Beck’s bottle of boyfriend. You know, because she can’t manage to find one.”

“Not for lack of trying.” Gerranus shook his head, grinning. The look in his eye told Bea he knew something Valentina didn’t. “Isn’t that right, Beck?”

Beckett rolled her eyes and sighed. “Not that it’s any of you assholes’ business.” 

“And you, Bea? You’ve been pretty quiet.” Gerranus gave Bea a glance. His tone suggested he was interested to know what she was thinking, but his expression appeared guarded. 

“Oh, you know I’m good. Yeah, just listening to these three shit on each other. Entertainment value is unrivaled.” she offered Gerranus a smile but he wasn’t looking at her. Instead, she saw Aleka sizing her up. 

“You know, I don’t think we’ve ever actually talked, Bea.” Aleka said, furrowing her brow slightly. “Which is odd, I think? I always imagined you to be someone who talks a lot. I don’t really know why I think that though. I guess because you are - were, friends with Aurelius and he talks so fucking much I just assumed you’d be someone who could keep up. Or like, you were friends with Dasan and he didn’t talk at all? Like, someone had to fill the silence I’d think?” 

“Oh,” Bea half laughed. “I guess I talk more when the situation calls for it. I think I’m gonna go and look for Niko and Qelle. We didn’t end on a great note so I better go say something fake nice so they question their entire opinion of me for the next five years.” she smiled politely and excused herself. 

For the next while, Bea wandered around exchanging faux platitudes with her former peers in search of someone to chat with. Eventually she came across Niko and Qelle in the midst of a very heated beer pong match and decided to leave them to it. Shortly thereafter she bumped into Haris. 

He was sitting inside on the half-wall against the stairs, chatting with some of his shitty friends that Bea didn’t care about. And who obviously didn’t care about him, based on the stories he’d told her. 

“Plastic! Just the girl I was looking for.” he beamed at her. “Come, come I wanna talk to you.” 

Less than gracefully, Haris jumped off the railing and gestured for Bea to follow him down the stairs. Cautiously, she nodded and followed him, trying not to roll her eyes when he led her into a bedroom. “I just wanted to say thanks for helping me pass English. Genuinely couldn’t have done it without your nerdy ass.” 

“Oh,” Bea nodded. “Yeah, definitely no problem.” she laughed softly.

He bit his hip hard and ran his hand through his hair. “I don’t drink, just as a head’s up, if you want a ride home.” the boy spoke quietly. He looked like he wanted to tell her something. 

“That’d actually be awesome. My alternative would’ve been one of my dad’s sketchy friends.” she offered him a smile. 

“And uh, sorry but this place is a little loud for me. Would you mind if we went sooner, rather than later?” the poor guy looked riddled with anxiety, and Bea couldn’t even begin to guess why. 

“Oh, for sure. Nothing to be sorry for. Yeah, we can go now if you want. Not like any of these people like me anyway.” she laughed, chugging the rest of her drink and crushing the can in her hand. 

“Thanks, Bee.” Haris gave her a guarded grin and led the pair back upstairs. Slightly off balance from the whole single drink she’d had, Bea staggered slightly up the stairs behind him, prompting the boy to come back down and scoop her up, carrying the frail girl up the stairs. She felt her face flush bright red out of embarrassment as he carried her like she was weightless out to his truck. 

They climbed into the cab and Haris started the truck. He didn’t move for a minute, his hands clenching and flexing in his lap a few times. “I… can I tell you something?” he asked quietly. 

“Yeah, duh.” Bea huffed. First the stupid bastard was calling her  _ Bee  _ instead of Plastic, like he knew her fucking name, and now he wanted to  _ tell her something.  _ What was next? A shitty love confession? She swore she’d puke if those were the next words to come out of his mouth. 

“I’m moving to Vancouver. I haven’t, like, told anyone but I’m leaving. Tomorrow.” he spoke quietly. “So, this could be the last time I see you. For hell knows how long.” 

“Oh,” Bea nodded slightly. “Well, that’s exciting. I mean, you get to leave your grandparents’ suffocating-at-best house, so hopefully life will be less  _ shitty and then you die,  _ as you put it.” 

He laughed quite hard for a moment before shaking his head. “Yeah,” he scratched his head a bit and rolled his eyes. “I guess so.” 

Without another word, he threw the truck into drive and took off down the street to take Bea home. 

When they pulled into her driveway, Bea turned to Haris and unclipped her seatbelt. “Well, I guess this is goodbye.” she spoke calmly. 

“For now.” Haris nodded. He looked sad, but he didn’t appear to be as riddled with anxiety as he had been. 

“For now.” Bea agreed quietly. She gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek and bid him goodbye before slowly climbing out of the truck. She was still quite wobbly on her feet, prompting Haris to roll down his window and poke his head out. Before he spoke, Bea assured him she was fine to get into the house - that she wasn’t drunk, just tired - and waved goodbye. 

When she let herself into the house, she watched him pull away with a smile on her face. 

He cared about her. 


	15. 15

_ My name is Bianca Bea Belmonte, and I have done what most people consider the unthinkable. And you know, I guess they say that suicide is contagious, and I get that but the truth is this isn’t some decision I made on a whim. No, I’ve been planning this for years. _

_ See, all I really wanted was to graduate. Go out with a bang, maybe. So what better day? Grad day - no one’s expecting that one. It’s memorable. _

_ The only thing about me that’ll be memorable. I can see the headlines as I write this -  _ _ Stupid Cunt Ruins Grad 2019 _ _. Perfect.  _

_ But I suppose that doesn’t answer the why. Isn’t it obvious? The reason is because I was genuinely awful. A shitty person who had no intentions for self-improvement. I didn’t change because I didn’t want to.  _

_ I recognize that everyone can change, people change. But people have to want to change to do so. But people like me, we don’t change. We never have and we never will. We let spite and toxicity rule everything. I mean, you’re probably bawling over the corpse of a girl who literally fucked her ex best friend’s brother the day said friend confessed his feelings for her in a very heartfelt text message.  _

_ You’re crying over the corpse of a girl who as good as let her friend  _ _ die _ _ in a drunk driving collision, and then changed her number so as to not suffer any consequences. Changed her number because that same night she had fucked her best friend’s brother in his bedroom and didn’t want to hear from him anymore.  _

_ If anyone dares to say some shit about me having a good heart, they’re a fucking fool. I was cruel, and toxic, and manipulative and I did one of the most unforgivable things a person can do. I let myself die when people still cared about me, and I  _ _ didn’t fucking regret it. _ _ I died with a goddamned smile on my face because I decided you all deserved this.  _

_ And I made sure as shit to hurt one person the most I thought I could. A big  _ _ fuck you _ _ to Haris Haddad. That stupid son of a bitch fell right into the trap I so cautiously laid out for him.  _

_ He made three unforgivable mistakes;  _

_ Fucking with me, _

_ Trusting me, _

_ And playing the fool’s game of caring about me.  _

_ And I let him. I let him even though I knew I was going to die. I knew I was going to die, I knew when, and I let him care about me anyway. I hope he fucking suffers. _

_ Because that’s the most unforgivable thing. Caring about people like me. Caring because we don’t fucking care back. I let him care and he’s halfway to the other side of the country and he has no fucking clue he’ll never see me again and I’m  _ _ so fucking excited. _

_ So I hope you get it. This was the plan all along. It’s been the plan since the beginning. For two whole years now.  _

_ I was born to die because I wasn’t just Plastic to you,  _

_ I had a plastic soul.  _


End file.
